


May I Feel, Said He

by adamcansuckme



Category: Hiddlestoner, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, actor!tom, au!tom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamcansuckme/pseuds/adamcansuckme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The flame of Tom’s marriage is out, there is no denying. After the divorce, he struggles to let himself love again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah and Tom are no more, and it’s time to say goodbye.

He looked at the golden ring on his finger, turning his left hand and feeling the weight of it on his hand. His throat was tight, like he had a lump in or it was trying to choke itself from the inside. The room was silent, not a peep in the entire house, and he could feel his shoulders heavy with the lack of sounds. The last of his suitcases rested by his side on the floor, Tom sat on the edge of the bed, back turned to door.

“Did you call the solicitor?” His voice finally managed to climb up his throat and leave his lips, low and quiet.

“Yes. The papers will be ready by Monday.” Sarah’s voice was no louder than a whisper.

“I won’t be in London.”

“Just leave the address, I’ll send it to you.”

She was sitting on the other side of the bed, back turned to him. She was wearing that hot pink dress that made her look so elegant.  _He_  had bought her that dress. Picked it carefully, thinking how her dark, smooth skin would look beautiful in it. He had imagined her wearing it to dinner, then taking it off in their bedroom, but now he didn’t care anymore. This was the worst of it - the coldness in his chest.

How could it have become that? Two years ago he was sure he loved her. So sure, that he had proposed to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower. He had always been so excited about everything and now… he wasn’t. He just… didn’t feel anything for her anymore. How was that possible? He would have gone to the moon and back how many times she asked him, but now… now the lump in throat was tight and hard. He took a deep breath and slipped the ring of his finger.

“I’m sorry.” He said, lowering his head.

“Don’t.” She cut her silence. “This is not your fault, Tom. I want it too.”

He turned the ring between his fingers. Tom couldn’t tell if that was the best part of it or the worst. They had been so happy, so in love, so passionate. And then, the fire was out. Not suddenly, no, but slowly burning until it was reduced to cold ashes on the floor. Nothing had happened, no fights, no scandal, no betrayal… Just… coldness. They stopped being so excited, then stopped talking to each other more than necessary, then they no longer felt any desire towards each other. There were nights where Tom had fallen asleep on the couch, allowing himself to, simply because he did not feel like sharing a bed with her. And there were days she would leave the house in the morning before Tom had even woken up and would return after he had gone to bed. He stopped kissing her before she left the house. She stopped buying him his favorite food. Sarah no longer sat at the breakfast table with him - to be honest both of them weren’t eating that much, hunger evading them. He had thought of scheduling an appointment with a couple’s therapist, but found himself not caring anymore. He tried to pinpoint the problem, to find where it all went wrong and come up with a solution, but it was no use. Then, on one night, both of them lying in their own side of the bed and staring at the ceiling, Sarah spoke.

“Tom?” She cooed.

“Hm.”

“I want a divorce.” She said with all the calm in the world.

Tom exhaled and closed his eyes.  _Finally_.

“Me too.” It felt like he had taken a burden off his back.

That night he had silently cried himself to sleep, allowing the tears to fall free after they had refused to appear for so long, and even though no sound came from her side of the bed, he knew she was crying too. They were beyond the point of return, but it was the coldness in both their hearts that hurt him most. He didn’t want to return and neither did Sarah. He did not hate her, she didn’t make him feel disgusted or angry. He simply didn’t love her anymore. So he did his best to contain the situation, keep it from the eyes and tongues of the press. They would eventually notice, but he wanted some privacy while the whole thing was in process. They talked about who would get what after the separation, agreeing quietly with what each other said over the kitchen counter. No fuss, no muss. Thank God there weren’t children.

“Do you want to remain friends?” He stared at the floor between his feet.

“Maybe. Let’s just both take our times and I guess we’ll be ok.”

He didn’t say anything, simply nodded and held the ring between his thumb and forefinger.

“My family will hate me.” He spoke, the silence bothering him. “They love you.”

“They’ll understand.”

 _Yes, they will_ , he thought to himself. The lump on his throat squeezed tighter and he knew the tears were about to come. He grabbed the handles of his suitcase and got up quickly. Better to end it quick. After all this time, after all he and Sarah had been through together, he didn’t want long goodbyes. It would only hurt more. He circled the bed as she got on her feet as well, turning to him. She looked up at him, the last stare they would exchange in a long time, maybe forever. He wished he could say the sadness in her eyes was for leaving him, but he knew it wasn’t. He wasn’t sad for leaving her. He was sad that he had lost her.

“Goodbye, Tom.” Her voice was low and weak, hanging at the edge of breaking.

“Goodbye, Sarah.” So was his, only slightly colder.

He took a step forward, gingerly placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Straightening up, he looked at her one more time and sighed, slightly nodding. Her eyebrows twitched. He turned around, placed what used to be his wedding ring on the dresser by the door, and left.

The wooden floor creaked under his feet as he dragged himself downstairs. Now his heart was tight as well. He felt it crunch and hurt inside his chest, an empty space where his stomach was supposed to be. Something was in his mouth, a cry perhaps. Tom hurried to the door, crossed the sidewalk and hopped into the car, throwing his bag on the passenger seat. The moment the he shut the door, the tears found their way out. What was stuck on his throat, pressing against his cheeks and lips now came out was whimpering and sobbing. He clutched the wheel tight in his hands and allowed himself to cry like a child. He wanted to say cuss words, to ask why, but the only sound leaving his lips were weeps and wails. He didn’t know for how he was like this, but after some time his breathing slowed down, long, heaving attempts to catch the breath wheezing out of his chest. Finally, taking a deep gulp of air, he allowed his body to stabilize. He dried the tears with the back of his hand and turned on the car, slithering into the street. He drove away from what used to be his house, the house of a married man and his lovely, sweet wife, heading for the apartment he had bought to shelter himself after this was all over. A small apartment, enough for one man. A single man. A divorced man.


	2. Feelings in a bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom has locked himself in his apartment for a week now, and Luke is worried.

The bell buzzed again.  _Just ignore it, he’ll go away_ _,_  he thought. Buzzed, again. Five seconds later again. Grunting, Tom pushed the covers away and got up, huffing and puffing as his patience ran thinner. He looked through the peephole and saw Luke standing in the hallway.

“Go away, Luke.” He said through the closed door.

“Just open the door, Tom.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’ll climb up window if you don’t open this door, Tom. I mean it.”

“What do you want?”

“You’ve been in there for a whole week! What the hell do you think I want?”

“I told you to cancel my appointments.”

“I’m not here as your publicist, I’m here as your friend. Now will you open the goddamn door?!

Tom rolled his eyes and growled, unlocking and opening the door.

“What?!”

Luke cocked his head and pursed his lips as he raised his hand to show the gossip magazine he held open in a specific page. It was Sarah, looking beautiful as always, her face hidden behind sunglasses and with about eight or more shop bags hanging from her hands and arms. TROUBLE IN PARADISE? MRS. HIDDLESTON SHOPS ALONE IN FRANCE. Tom nodded, acknowledging the information.

“Thanks for the input. Goodbye.” He pushed the door on Luke’s face.

Before he could close it, Luke’s foot was between the door and the frame.

“Tom, come on!” Luke tried to push it open.

“You said you weren’t here as my publicist.” Tom tried to shut it close.

“I’m not! Just let me in, you stupid fuck!”

Tom busted the door open and Luke nearly fell, sumbling into the apartment.

“I could fire you for that.” He didn’t really mean it, he was just pissed.

“Go ahead.” Luke’s eyes popped wide open he saw the state of the living room. “Jesus, Tom, look at this place!”

There were pizza boxes, chinese food containers, snack bags, beer bottles, tea cups and bottles of wine and whiskey spread all over the floor, the coffee table, the couch, piling up and creating a terrible mixed smell of old food, alcohol and lack of shower. Tom hadn’t nearly left the couch through the week, getting up to pay for the food, get more drinks or go to the bathroom. There was a blanket and a pillow on top of it. The TV was going on about some tennis championship. The curtains were closed and the windows shut. Luke turned to Tom and actually took in the sight of him, dressed in a white shirt, his black cardigan, navy blue sweatpants and white socks. There were food stains all over him, his hair was greasy and messy and his chin was covered with over a week of no shaving, crums, smudges and bits of food in his beard and jaw. Not to mention the stains around his crotch and stomach that told Luke his friend and boss had been watching porn non-stop.

“For fuck’s sake, Tom, look at  _you_!”

Tom rolled his eyes and moved to the coffee table to pour himself some whiskey.

“Put that back right now or so help me, Tom.”

Tom snorted like an annoyed teenager and placed the bottle back on the cofee table. Sitting down on the couch, legs spread and hand falling between them.

“Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?” Luke tried to calm down, even though the whole thing looked pitiful and disgusting. This wasn’t easy for Tom, but he couldn’t just give up like that. “Come on, Tom… After you got back from that trip, you locked yourself here. Sarah is out there moving on and you have locked yourself in this pigsty. Look at this mess! It reeks!”

“I’ll call the cleaning lady, is that what you want?” He threw his feet on the coffee table and grabbed the control, switching channels.

“No, Tom, that’s not- I mean, yeah, but no, that’s not what I want. Have you looked in the mirror? You look like shit!”

“Thanks for pointing it out, mate, that really makes me feel better.” Tom barely looked at him.

“I  _am_  trying to help! Why do you think I came all this way?” Luke took a step forward.

“To rub that stupid magazine on my face?” He simply pretended to ignore Luke, trying to find something suitable to watch.

“No, you dick, I wanted to show you how she is handling this whole situation.”

“Do you have a point?” He pulled his legs from the coffee table, planted them on the ground and inclined his body forward. He was beginning to lose his patience. “‘Cause I think you’re not making it.”

“She’s out, Tom. Simply that. She’s out of her house, while you’re here in this post-apocaliptic excuse for an apartment. She got herself all the way France to overcome the divorce and is spending her money in bullks to pretend she’s okay, but at least she is breathing some fresh air, not some cologne of misery and self-pity. Shit, Tom, this is not healthy!”

“I just got out of a divorce, Luke, what more do you want?”

Tom clicked on the button to turn off the TV as Luke shoved a hand in his pocket, the other pointing at Tom.

“I want you to take a shower, shave, put on clean clothes and get out of this apartment.”

“I am not doing that.” He shook his head and sat back.

“Yes, you are!” Luke’s voice a note higher now, inverting the papers of boss and employee. Or maybe just a friend worried about another friend. “I am not leaving this apartment until you do and I’m calling a cleaning lady right now.”

“Luke-”

“GO!”

-

Luke drove for a few blocks, both car windows open to let the fresh air in, until he pulled up at this small diner with a couple of tables on the sidewalk. There was this park on the other side of the street and he thought it would be good for Tom to sit out there and watch the people jogging and walking their dogs. He knew this was tough on Tom, he knew Tom was miserable, and he was entitled to, but Luke’s concern was about Tom’s health of mind, not heart. The heart, Luke knew, would eventually heal itself. Tom had showered, shaved, put on clean clothes and there was a cleaning lady right now at the apartment, taking care of the mess, so they ordered a couple beers and a plate of chips.

“Put your hands in your pockets.” Luke said, putting down his beer.

“Why?”

“Because some prick from TMZ e-mailed me yesterday asking why Sarah wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. If you both show up without them they won’t believe me anymore.”

“What did you tell them?” Tom shoved his left hand in his pocket as he picked up his beer with the other.

“I told them she was having it polished and readjusted, that should buy us some time.”

“Thanks, mate. I’d hate to have to deal with them.”

He and Luke had successfully kept his own private like, well… private. It was okay for the media to know when Tom dated a girl as long as they kept their noses respectfully out of what at Tom decided was best not to tell them. It all worked fine, and when Sarah came along and he married her, they had posted selfies of the wedding, both of them very happy, and the press seemed to settle for it. Once in a while they would ask for a picture or ask how things were, and Tom would, to his best, oblige. When the marriage began to fall, Tom narrowed his answers to “We’re doing fine, thanks for asking” and threw in a smile for the papparazzi.

“Hey, no problem, that’s my job.” Luke cleaned the salt and fat from his fingers on the napkin.

“You’re more than my employee, Luke, we’re friends.”

“I’m the best fucking friend you’ll ever find. Who else would stay in that pigsty for more than a minute to try and help you?” Luke picked up his beer.

“I still want to go back to my apartment.”

“Tom, for fuck’s sake…” Luke’s beer stopped in midair.

“I mean it, Luke. All I want is to curl up inside a blanket, have a beer, eat Chinese and watch Wimbledon.”

“The Tom I know would be watching it from the crowd, not from his couch.” Tom rolled his eyes as Luke took another gulp of his drink. “Come on, Tom, this isn’t you. I know this is hard and you’re in pain, but don’t do that to yourself, man. You are the most positive, happy person I have ever met and now you’re almost falling off the border and into depression. I didn’t even know you could do that!”

“Divorce changes people.”

“Yeah, it does, Tom. I’m not asking you to pretend everything is alright and you don’t feel like throwing yourself off a bridge. All I’m asking is for you to take daily showers and get out of the apartment. Go eat a burguer somewhere, go running, go play tennis, go see a movie, go to the gym, go work on some charity… I don’t know. Just… don’t give up, okay? Don’t give up.”

Tom stared at Luke for a while then looked to the park on the other side of the street. There he was, being the reasonable one of the two of them. Deep down, Tom knew he was right. But it hurt. It hurt that he had put time, effort, and most of all his heart into the relationship he thought would last until the day he died. He had truly loved Sarah, with all his being - the sort of devotion one would find him putting into everything and everyone he loved. He had truly loved Sarah… and then he didn’t anymore. That’s what hurt him the most. How was this even possible? He thought they would be together forever, he wanted that… and then he didn’t anymore. It’s not that she wasn’t worthy of it, God, no. It’s not that she ever did something to upset him to the point where it would become annoying, no, she never did that. She didn’t become less attractive, she didn’t cheat on him, she didn’t try to control his life. No, nothing like that. It was like his love for her - and hers for him - had an expiration date but neither of them knew that. One day they loved each other with all their hearts, and then, not that suddenly, that love faded away. He still cared for her, though, and he reckoned she cared for him as well, but they would never fool themselves and each other pretending that they wanted to be husband and wife anymore. Friends? Maybe. Who knows? One day. But lovers, no. Not anymore.

“There’s a Shakespeare book club in this bookstore nearby.” He remembered.

“There’s the Tom I know!” Luke smiled and laughed, patting Tom on the shoulder.

“I used to go there sometimes, but I don’t know if they still meet.” Tom picked up his beer to finish it.

“If they don’t, I’ll buy you a new Hamlet.” Luke got up, taking his wallet out to pay for the bill. “What do you think?”

“Shakespeare is always welcome in my library.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.


	3. The book club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom has been quiet at the book club meetings every week now, and perhaps it’s time he opened up.

The book club was this small gathering behind the shelves where all the classics of the English language were. Tom recognized three of them from before: Steve and Jack, two old men who he always thought to be a gay couple and Christina, a literature teacher who always made a point to bring the delicious snacks from this deli near her house. The others he had never met. There was a couple, Jim and Tamara, both of them college students. This other girl named Lucy, who was still in high school but was very intelligent and really insightful. And there was a woman who Tom guessed could not be much younger than him - that was Amanda, but she preferred to go by Amy. Luke insisted on picking him up every week and taking him to the bookstore. He would also take him home, to make sure Tom wouldn’t turn around and wallk home as soon as he was around the corner. This was the fourth time he went and everytime he had talked very little. Shakespeare was always exciting, but he just didn’t feel like talking.

Last week the literature teacher, who was the host of the club, suggested they discussed the sonnets that described their current lives on the next meeting. Now here was Tom, hips sliding down the seat of the chair, legs spread open and arms crossed, hiding his left hand under his elbow, as he heard the teenage girl conclude her extensive and incredibly surprising analysis of Sonnet 53. For the last fifteen minutes she had talked non-stop about her identity and individuality and how we see and project ourselves in what we do. Now was Tom’s turn. Everyone in the circle looked at him, the old men and the teacher looking full of hopes and expectations.

“No, thank you.” He said, raising his eyebrows and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Come on, Tom, share with us.” Christina tried. “I remember you from earlier meetings, you always had something to add. You’ve been awfully quiet lately. Are you not going to share yours at all?

“Fine.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked down. “Twenty-eight.”

“Wow.” Jack perched up in his chair, so did everyone else, except Jim. “That’s terribly gloomy, young man. You used to be so full of light when you talked. Why twenty-eight?”

Before Tom could answer -  _thank God_  - the young boy had raised his hand.

“Excuse me. I don’t quite remember that one. How does it go?”

“Here, Jim.” The professor extended her hand, giving him her book. “Why don’t you read it out loud?”

The boy took it in his hands and furrowed his brows to focus.

_How can I then return in happy plight,_  
 _That am debarr’d the benefit of rest?_  
 _When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,_  
 _But day by night, and night by day, oppress’d?_  
 _And each, though enemies to either’s reign,_  
 _Do in consent shake hands to torture me,_  
 _The one by toil, the other to complain_  
 _How far I toil, still farther off from thee._  
 _I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright,_  
 _And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:_  
 _So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night,_  
 _When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even._  
 _But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,_  
 _And night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger._

No one said a word for a couple of seconds, some stolen glances at each other, most of them at Tom, who simply stared at the floor, feet tapping. Finally, Jim broke the silence.

“This is pretty… sad.”

“Yes, it is.” Said Christina.

“The poet, on his journey, is going farther and farther from his friend.” Lucy explained. “He grieves for the temporary separation, and is oppressed both by day and night. He lost all hope to return in a happy and prosperous condition.”

 _Fuck_. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, now everyone looked miserable. He felt someone stare at him and looked up. It was Amy. She was holding a paper cup full of steaming coffee on top of her crossed thighs and staring at him with her hazel eyes. He looked down again, avoiding her gaze. Then, he heard her voice.

“Um… Why don’t we move on? I could tell you mine.”

“Yes, Amy, that would be nice.” Said Steve.

“Well, right now I think it’s four…” And she went on talking about how her, as a psychiatrist, asked herself why some people do the things they do. She didn’t reveal anything about her patients, of course, but she talked of how even though this was her field of expertise, the human mind was still a mistery to her.

-

Two weeks later, Luke texted him that something had come up and he would late to pick him up.  _10 minutes tops_ , Luke added. Tom was standing on the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets as he would always remind himself, patiently waiting for his ride. He could walk home or take the tube, but Luke made a point to pick him up.

“Hey.” Amanda showed up at his side, wearing a beautiful, elegant white dress, her brown wavy hair down and her purse hanging on her elbow, two cups of coffee in her hands. “I brought you this.”

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to.” Being polite, he accepted the cup and drank a bit.

“You always leave in a hurry. Why don’t you stay for a while and eat something?”

“Christina’s snacks are always delicious, but I think I’ll eat at home.”

Amy nodded and let her eyes wander, looking at the passing cars on the street. She drank a bit of her coffee and, moments later, broke the silence.

“Hey, why didn’t you lie?” She squinted her eyes a bit as she looked at him.

“Sorry?”

“Two weeks ago, the sonnets. You could have said any other one, something romantic or deep. It would have been easier. I did.”

“You lied?” He cocked his head, taking some more coffee.

“Yes. The sonnet that describes my life right now is actually 113.”

Thomas looked at her, remembering the verses in his head. It was about separation as well, but the poet could not stop thinking about his beloved. It was quite terrible, actually, the feeling he described.

 “Wow.” Tom raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly.

“Wow, indeed.” She drank a sip of coffee and went on. “I hated it, but I had to do it.”

“You’re not talking about the sonnet, are you?” Tom cocked his head.

“No, I’m talking about my divorce.”

“You’re divorced?” His eyebrows were up again, surprised someone so beautiful like her could be…  _Oh, nevermind…_

“Yes. He cheated on me and after that I never trusted him again.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “But you still love him, don’t you? I mean, the sonnet says-”

“I can’t forget him, unfortunately, if it’s what you’re asking.”

“What about you? I remember hearing some stupid gossip about a crisis in your marriage. Is everything alright?”

“Oh.”  _She could spill it to a website or a magazine… I shouldn’t say anything._ “No, everything is fine. These damn papparazzi will do just about anything to create a scandal.”

“You know, I think they’re so disrespectful. Mostly I hear the celebrity gossips from my sister, she loves that crap, but I think it’s ridiculous. They have no respect for other people, the famous ones and even they’re families and friends.”

“Tell me about it.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up, not raising his hand to let Amy see there was no ring.

 _Almost there. 5 min._ He shoved the phone back in his pocket and left his hand there.

“So… if I may be so bold…” She started. “Who is the friend in the poem? The one you’re separated.”

“Oh… um…”  _Do I say anything?_ “Promise to keep it a secret?”

Deep down, he actually wanted to talk about it. Now that some time had passed, he wanted to tell someone other than Luke and his family, and who better than a therapist?

“On my honor as doctor.”

She placed her forefinger on her lips, and for the first time Tom caught himself thinking how smooth and soft they should be. He shook the thought off his head and answered her question.

“My cheerfulness.” He spilled, finishing his coffee and throwing the papercup on a trashcan nearby.

“Oh… how awful.” She did nothing but stare at him, and so he noticed how her hazel eyes looked really bright when she used an eyeliner. Again he shook off the thought.

“Yes, I supposed it is. I’ve always been a upbeat person, cheerful, but lately some things have kept me down.”

“May I take a guess?” She tried.

“If you want.”

“Is it love?” Said she.*

“I believe that, when you are so open-hearted as I usually am, it’s easy to get hurt. It can be dreadful, but it is easy to get lost in your own heart, if you’re willing.” Said he.*

“But you’re killing.” Said she,* and then went on as she saw the puzzled look in his blue eyes. “You’re killing yourself, on the inside.” Tom opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him. “I agree we should be open-hearted, but we can’t allow ourselves to let those feelings take over our entire being. It kills us on the inside, sometimes even the good feeling can be that overwhelming.”

“Is that your opinion as a therapist?”

“In a way, yes. But I believe in it just as much when outside my office.”

“And what is your advice?”

“Are you trying to get a free counsel?” She furrowed her brows and smiled a bit, a cute smile.

Tom laughed. His tongue on his bottom teeth, his eyes squinting, he head falling back… he laughed. At the time he didn’t notice, but it had been a while since he laughed like that.

“No, I’m sorry. Should I schedule an appointment, madam?” He joked.

“Well, then one of us would have to quit the bookclub. I don’t see my patients out of my office.”

Tom smiled and shook his head, and as a soft breeze blew on the street, her brown hair swayed, a lock of it falling on her eyes.

“May I move?” Said he,* raising his right hand closer to her eyes.

She didn’t say a word, but only let him pull the lock of hair back, thanking him for it. There was these two seconds of silence, and then Luke pulled up on the curb.

“Oh, I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, slightly touching her elbow as he did.

He turned to get in the car, but heard her voice calling.

“Tom?” He turned back and looked at her. “If you really want my advice, I’d tell you to try and learn a lesson from whatever it is that’s been putting you down. Something positive.”

“Thanks, Amy. I’ll try that. See you next week.”

“Bye.” She waved her hand as he got in the car.

“Hey, buddy.” Luke said. “Sorry I was late. These two cars bumped each other as one left the parking spot and the idiots blocked the street to argue who would pay for the damage.

“Oh, that’s inconvenient.” He said, as Luke pulled the car into the street.

“I know. So, how was book club today?”

“Very good, actually. I’m definitely come back next week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.


	4. Healing the wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book club gathers at Amy’s apartment this week and Tom not only stays for the usual snack after the meeting, but also ends up alone with Amy.

With every passing day, it got harder to hide the divorce from the papparazzi. Tom had asked Luke to call Sarah and see if she would be willing to cooperate until you two figured out what to tell the press and how to do it, and apparently she was okay with all of it. Luke told her what to answer if anyone asked her anything and so far it was working, but both the men knew one day it would be impossible to keep the secret anymore and Tom would have to substitute “we’re fine, thanks for asking” with “we’re no longer together” and be showered with more questions.

“You know, this is actually good, you going to someone else’s apartment for a change.”

Luke said, walking with his hand in his pocket, looking up at the tall building with a glass front close to the corner, before taking a sip of the tea he had in his papercup. Tom had his head down, double checking the address Amy had given him. There was this children’s book fair going on all week at the library his book club met, so Amanda had offered her apartment as an option. It wasn’t far from their usual place and it had plenty of room. Christina said that, as the host of the group, she should be the one to offer her place, but her lift was on the fritz Steve and Jack would have trouble using the stairs.

“What do you mean?” He looked up from his phone and checked the small numbered sign on the wall right in front of the building. That was it.

“I’ve been giving you this speech for weeks now, Tom.” He stopped and looked at his friend. “Get out of your apartment, man. I have to drag your ass out of it nearly everyday!”

“Luke, if it’s that much trouble-”

“Tom, it’s really not. You know I’m just worried.” Tom sighed and pursed his lips. “I just think it’s good that you’re going someplace else than the library.”

“Hey, I go for a run in the park, too.”

“Yeah, I know. But this is also good for your publicity. We got to make people think you’re living your life normally, visiting friends. So…”

“You want pictures.” Tom rolles his eyes.

“Just one or two, and you post them on twitter saying you’re having a good time and you wished Sarah was there. That’s going to buy us more time.”

“Fine. I have to go. I don’t want to be late.”

-

“Yes, unfortunately some people are equally lazy and arrogant. Alright, I think that wraps it up for today.” Christina said, looking at her watch after Tamara had finished her comments on the many misinterpretations people would make of Shakespeare’s plays. “Now, why don’t we have something to eat?”

One by one everyone got up and headed for the table where Amy had set the snacks Christina had brought from the deli. Little tomato-cheddar sandwiches, cheese straws, chocolate tartlets, cherry tartlets… a little bit of each and all very delicious. Amanda had insisted on making some bubble tea and serving on proper glasses, since they could only drink coffee and juice in paper cups at the library. Tom was trying to sneak out when she showed up with two glasses in her hand.

“Going somewhere?”

“Oh, I… I was just…” He tried.

“Come on, Tom, stay for a bit. Five minutes.” She extended one of the glasses to him, biting her lips in a cute way.

He glanced at the others by the refreshment table, talking and eating and drinking. Tamara laughing loudly with Jack, Jim and Lucy in this intense conversation, Steve pouring himself more bubble tea while listening to something Christina went on about. Everyone was so… cheery. He missed that. Luke was right, it was time he at least tried.

“Okay, I guess I can stay for a bit.” He took the glass in his hand and smiled politely. Amy smiled back, that beautiful, glowing smile she had. “I just have to text a friend first, if you don’t mind.”

-

Tom had forgotten how funny Steve was - and apparently so was Lucy. At some point the three of them were talking about Lucy’s life as a high school girl and they found out her headmaster had not only been Tom’s teacher but also Steve’s classmate. Tom laughed unabashedly when Steve told him and Lucy some racy secrets about “Mr. Pennington”. Then he almost spit his bubble tea while Jim told him the story about when Tamara introduced him to her parents. Apparently Tammy had forgotten to tell her folks that her boyfriend was lactose intolerant and her mother had forgotten to tell her she was making her famous cheese souffle. They also did not tell them the bathroom was out of order. Tom was having a really good time. He even took a couple pictures with his phone, like Luke told him to, and would figure out what to tweet later, in his apartment. Jack seemed to be very interested in Tom’s portrayal of Cassio in Othello when he was younger. Christina filled Tom in on all the people that had been on the Shakespeare book club and told him how much she missed his insights.

“Oh, goodness, I should leave.” She said looking at her watch. “I have this endless pile of papers to go over before the next Monday and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you, then.” Tom helped her gather her things. “We should do this more often, Chris, talk about something other than Shakespeare.”

“Oh, Tom, but that’s what we do after every meeting, over sandwiches and coffee. You just run away and miss all that. See you next week.” She kissed his cheek and left, leaving him to his thoughts.

Luke was right. God dammit, Luke was right. He missed being around people and today he had laughed and talked and felt cheerful again. Maybe he was ready to do this. Maybe it wasn’t the huge step he thought it was. It was just talking after all, and it made him feel really nice. It had been two months after the divorce already, he still felt a little shaken sometimes, a little depressed, but Luke’s efforts had to be awarded. More than his publicist, he was a friend, and a good one, indeed. Every day he parked his car in front of Tom’s building and dragged his ass out of the apartment for a run in the park. Every week he drove Tom to the book club and very now and then they would go out for a beer or a couple drinks in a club. This was what he did as a friend, not to mention all the things he did as his publicist. Luke was really something, Tom was lucky to have him.

He turned around and looked at the apartment and saw only Amy crumpling napkins and wrappings and tossing then in a rubbish bin she had under her arm.

“Where is everybody?” He lowered his eyebrow looking around the room.

“They left.” Said Amy. “They all had things to do, places to be…”

Tom blinked a couple times letting it sink in. How much time had passed? He pulled out his phone and checked.  _A whole hour! Oh, my God. I didn’t even notice_. He looked up again and saw her trying to grab more glasses than her delicate hands could handle and quickly rushed to help her.

“Here, let me take some of those.”

“Oh, thanks. Just put them in the sink.” She said, crossing the room towards the kitchen. “I’ll take care of them later-Ah!”

She had tripped on the carpet and fallen on her hands and knees. One cup flew away and hit the nearest wall but the other broke in her hand. It happened quickly and Tom wasn’t near enough to catch her. By the time he had put the ones he held on the table and rushed to her, the glasses had shattered on the floor and Amy was whimpering looking at her right hand, which had blood seeping from a cut on her palm.

“Oh, God, Amy. Are you okay?”  _Silly question, you tit._ Tom grabbed her left arm and pulled gently. “Come, sit here, I’ll help you with that. Just hang on.”

He sat her on the sofa and gently placed her hand on the arm of the couch and ran to the kitchen. Tom quickly found a clean cloth in and tried the faucets to see witch had hot water. He prepared a bowl of warm water and soap and went back to her, placing the bowl on the floor and kneeling by her side. He dipped the rag in the soapy water and twisted a bit not to make a mess. Being as tender as he could, he took her hand in his and began cleaning the cut. Quietly, he dabbed the damp rag on her hand as he noticed how delicate and soft it was.

“Does it hurt too much?”

“It hurts, yes, but nothing I can’t handle.” She said as he cleaned the wound. “Lucky me you were here.”

“How so?” He carefully dried her hand with the other end of the rag.

“I’m useless with first-aid, I think I’d just put a band-aid on top of it.” She smiled, the cute smile Tom had noticed before, and chuckled.

“Good thing I’m here, then.” He smiled, teeth bare, and gently put her hand down. “Do you keep a first-aid kit?”

“Yeah. Top shelf in the pantry, it’s a blue box.” He got up taking the bowl and cloth with him.

“Aw… No white box with a red cross on top?” Tom threw it all in the sink, and found his way to the pantry.

“Hey, I happen to like blue.” She said as he came out of the kitchen.

He kneeled on the floor again, placing the box on the floor and opening it. There was a hand sanitizer and he used it to clean himself before anything.

“Wow, you really know about this.” She complimented, looking at him.

“It’s just basic first-aid.” He felt his neck warm up as he found an antibiotic ointment and unscrew the cap. “I have to touch it a little bit, so it might hurt. I’ll tell you when.”

He took her hand in his again and looked up to meet her eyes. Looking down again, he squeezed the tube on her hand and let the ointment fall on top of the wound. He placed the tube down in the box, then turned to her again.

“Now.” Said he,* gingerly spreading the medicine and trying not to be rough on the wound.

“Ow.” Said she,* wincing slightly.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He looked up and noticed her biting her lower lip and her hazel eyes squinting a bit as if she was trying to hold back a whimper. She looked rather beautiful doing that. Tom was kneeling with his back turned to the window and the light of the sunset seeped trough the curtains and flooded the room, touching her olive skin, making her glow beautifully. Oh God, her eyes looked like actual amber gems when the light shined like that.

“Tom?” She whispered.

“Uh?”

“I guess I should say I’m flattered… But your wife.” Said she,* and only then Tom noticed he had leaned in a lot closer, and was just a couple inches of kissing her lips.

Startled, he straightened up, blushing furiously and staring down.

“Let me finish that.” She said, kindly, pulling her hand to herself.

“No, no, let me do it.” He took her hand in his again and, avoiding her eyes, finished his job, neatly wrapping a clean bandage around the cut.

None of them said a word. He placed everything back in the box, closed it and went to put it back in place. When he got back, Amy had gotten up and was picking up the shattered glass from the floor.

“Amy, please, don’t.” He said, crouching by her side. “Let me do that, you’ll get another cut.”

“I’m not that clumsy.”

He helped her put the big pieces together and then she went to get newspaper, a rubbish bin and a vacuum for the tiny ones. They finished cleaning up the mess and Tom helped her put everything away. As he put the vacuum away in a cupboard in the laundry room, he felt a weight in his chest that he couldn’t place and also the need to apologize for his behavior. He turned around and bit his lips, but before he could say anything, Amy spoke.

“Tom, you don’t have to say anything, it’s fine.” She was leaning against the washer with her arms crossed under her breasts.

“No, I do. I really do. I…” He suddenly realized what was the weight on his chest and how terribly he wanted to be relieved of this burden. “Can I… Amy I want to say something, it’s been eating me alive for a while now, but I can’t say it if I’m not a hundred percent sure you will not breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Alright. What is it?” She straigthened up and uncrossed her arms, a serious look taking over her face.

“No, Amy, this is serious. Telling someone about this could ruin other lives, not just mine.”

She swallowed and licked her lip, lowering her brow and nodding.

“You can tell me.”

Tom took a deep breath, looked down for a bit, his hands on his hips. Then he mustered the courage, looked up and spilled it.

“I’m divorced.” He sighed, feeling a huge burden being lifted from him.

She blinked several times, taken aback witht the news. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to talk, but Tom spoke first.

“Oh, God, this is the first time I actually said it out loud to someone.” He buried his face in his hands. “I mean, my publicist knows and my parents and sisters know, but this is actually the first time I tell it to someone outside the whole… inner circle, you know?”

He was gesticulating looking at her through squinted eyes, while Amy looked back at him with the kindest gaze he had ever gotten from her.

“Yeah, I know.” She said, her voice low and soft as Tom leaned against the wall behind him.

“Gosh, I’m divorced…” He looked up, staring at the ceiling of the laundry room as he felt his body slide down the wall.

He sat on the floor and closed his eyes, and moments later he felt Amy sitting by his side.

“I’m divorced…” Tom repeated, as if to reassure himself.

He felt a lump in his throat and his chest tight.

“I-I’m div-vorced.” His voice failed him, and felt the tears quickly coming up and out of his eyes. He cried for a bit, but then remembered he was not alone, and tried to dry the tears with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Amy, this is so discorteous of me.”

“Discorteous? Tom, you just told me you’re divorced! You have every right to cry your eyeballs out! When did this happen?”

“Two months ago.”

“Two months! Dear God, Tom, it’s damn recent! Please, cry all you want. I cried for six months straight and I still cry sometimes whenever something reminds me of that bastard. Please, cry all your tears, darling, I won’t judge you.”

Tom curled his lips up, his cheeks wet and cold with tears. She was really sweet, but nevertheless, he dried his face.

“Thank you, Amy.” He took a deep breath and decided it was time to go home. “But I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

He pushed himself up and, ever the gentleman, extended a hand to help her up.

“Are you sure? I could make you a nice cup of tea, relax a bit.”

“No, I’m fine.” Tom said, starting to walk out and head for the living room. “I’m all better now.”

“If you say so… But this sort of thing can be really hard, and if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, here…” She picked a pen on a table by the door and scribbled something on a business card and gave it to him. “This is my cellphone. Text me or call me, or whatever, okay? We can go out for a coffee sometime or just talk, I don’t know.”

“Thank you.” He stared into her kind hazel eyes and noticed how they matched beautifully with her soft olive skin and brown wavy hair.

Before it got weird again, he looked away, down at the number in his hand and then stuffed the paper in his pocket. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth.

“It’s just this whole thing was such a big change you know… I remember loving Sarah with all my heart and then, after some time, I just didn’t any more. But it’s life.” Said he.* “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know. Well, thanks, anyway. See ya.”

He kissed her cheek and she kissed his, she said bye and opened the door for him. He left her building and took the tube home. On the way, he kept his left hand shoved in his pocket, holding tight to the small piece of crumbled paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.


	5. The truth comes out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Luke decide its time they let the media know of their divorce, but as Luke points out, this might be a problem Tom, Sarah and Amy.

Luke had just finished going over Tom’s agenda for the rest of the month, confirming appearances and interviews, but there was one last item on the list of all the subjects he wanted to discuss with him. Tom came back from the kitchen with a bowl full of mini-pretzels and two bottles of Guinness to find his friend and publicist biting the cap of the pen, his mind a bit far.

“What’s on your mind, mate?” He sat on the couch by Luke’s side and placed everything on the coffee table.

“We can’t push this any further, Tom. They’re gonna find out you and Sarah are divorced, and if they don’t get the news from us, it’s just going to be a bigger scandal.” Tom passed him a bottle and for a moment none of them spoke, just drank. “Besides, if we say the right words, we can protect Sarah’s image too. I know you wish her well.”

“I do, yes.” He tipped the bottle, taking another sip. “And they shouldn’t have to harass her, I’m the one they want.”

“They’ll go after her anyway, no matter what we tell them. They want secrets, dirt. They want to take her whatever words they can extract from you both and twist it into a scandal, you know how that works. That’s why we need to talk about this.”

“You’re going to call her?”

“I already did, earlier today. Asked her if she was ready for it, and assured her we would do out bests not to let it affect too hard.”

Tom simply nodded, staring at his beer, his eyes blank. He hadn’t heard from Sarah ever since he -  _left_ _her_.He blinked, shaking off the thought. He hadn’t left her, neither had she done anything to end the marriage. It was no one’s fault. Still, Tom felt bad for her. He knew she was trying to get over it, just like he was, with Luke’s help, but if it was hard on him, it was hard on her, for they both had once loved each other with screaming intensity, and they both watched that love slip through their fingers. He wondered if she cried, like he did. He wondered if her friends were there for her - God, he hoped so. And he didn’t want to cause her any more pain or any sort of distress, but he knew once the truth was out, they would come after her.

“How is she?” His voice was toneless, low.

“Well.” Luke nodded. “She’s doing well. I’ve spoken to her a couple times now and she seems alright. … She asked about you.”

“What did you say?” Tom’s head snapped to the side, anxious for an answer.

“I said you were doing alright, one day at a time, coping.”

“Oh, God!” Tom threw his head back and rolled his eyes. “That makes me sound like a recovering alcoholic.”

“Well, you  _are_  recovering. But enough about this.” Luke shifted in his seat. “Come on, I need to know if you’re ready. We can’t keep pushing this, it’s going to crack eventually. And Sarah said she’s alright with it, as long as we keep her posted, tell her what to say. She wants to help.”

“Bless her. Amazing, she is.” He took another sip of his Guinness and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

-

Tom sat in the waiting room of the therapist’s office, waiting for his turn. The door opened and a young woman came out, her eyes swollen as she probably had been crying about her problems. The moment she spotted Tom Hiddleston sitting there, right in front of her, her eyes widened and her expression changed. She had her phone in her hand and gripped it tighter with a weird gleam flashing in her eyes.

“Mr. Hiddleston.” Teased Amy, who was just behing the girl, knowing Tom wasn’t there for an appointment.

“How do you do, Dr. Donovan?”

Tom nodded, keeping his face blank while his eyes took in the curvesome sight of his new friend in a white dress that hugged her body very nicely. The young woman mumbled a goodbye to her therapist and dashed out to the corridor to call the elevator and Tom followed her with her eyes.  _Perfect_. Tom got up to kiss Amy’s cheek. That close to her skin, he noticed she smelled of almonds.

“It’s actually Salazar-Donovan, you know, but I figured a non-hyphened name would look better on the business card.” Amy led Tom into her office and closed the door behind them.

“You still haven’t changed your name back after the divorce?”

“No, I actually never took his last name.”

Tom walked in and saw the small office. There was a low, long cabinet by the wall to his right, an armchair at the side of it, and a door and a tall plant between the chair and a long, comfy couch that was placed on the wall opposing the door, with a box of tissues place on top of one of the arms. Amy crossed the room and grabbed the knob of the door Tom had assumed to be a cupboard or a restroom.

“Oh, no, don’t sit there…” She said, seeing Tom was about to sit on the couch. “Come on, this is much more comfortable.”

She entered the room and left the door open for Tom. He followed, and discovered it was neither cabinet nor restroom, but a small kitchen with only few supplies and some spots to sit on. The cabinet and tiny stove were on the right wall, and to his left there was a small table with a couple of chairs, a fluffy carpet that covered half the floor and, on the corner to his side, two bean bags.

“Is this where you rest between patients?” Tom asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, but not only that.” She fumbled around the kitchen, making tea. “Sometimes a patient is too nervous, too anxious, and I find that snuggling in a bean bag with a cup of hot sweet tea in your hands and bare feet on a fuzzy carpet can soothe the mind and heart and ease the conversation.”

“That’s a great idea.”

She finished making their tea and they sat, side by side, on the bean bags, feet naked and feeling the soft carpet underneath. Tom sipped the hot, comforting beverage, then thought of what to say. There was a couple of things he wanted to talk about, and even if he didn’t know Amy that well - after all, she was but a colleague from the book club and they only saw each other once a week - he felt really comfortable around her. She had this thing about her, some sort of aura perhaps, that calmed his heart and soothed his mind, something he’d been needing quite a lot lately. Maybe it was because she also had been through a divorce and knew how it felt, or maybe it was whatever it was about her kind hazel eyes.

“I’ve decided I’m going to come out about the divorce.” He said, staring at the twirling little mist rising from his tea.

“Are you sure?” She lowered her cup and looked at him - he turned a bit to look back, spotting actual concern in her eyes. “You know it’s going to be hell after that.”

“I know.” Tom sighed, turning back to watch his tea again. “But it’s not good to delay it that much. It could make the media’s reaction a lot worse.”

“And have you thought about what you’re going to tell them?” She said, bringing the cup to her lips.

“Yes. A version of the truth, less details. I want to avoid the harassment.”

“That’s smart.” She nodded. “These paparazzi  have no respect for people. And they’re not afraid of creating lies to suit their interests, you have to be careful about that.”

“I know.” He turned to look at her. “That’s actually one of the reasons why I’m here.”

Amy furrowed her eyebrows and it made a cute little crease between them. There was a window above the counter in front of them, and  the light of the middle of the afternoon was what illuminated the small kitchen. Tom looked into Amy’s eyes and felt a sudden need to lay his head on her shoulder and just stay quiet for a while, maybe fall asleep smelling her scent of almonds.

“I, uh… Luke…” He swallowed, shifting in his sit to turn his whole body in her direction. “Luke reminded me I shouldn’t leave any loose ends or tracks that they could follow.”

“That is very smart, yes” She squinted her eyes a bit. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what does it have to do with me?”

“Well, Luke is the one who’s been dropping me off and picking me up from the book club, he insists upon it. He saw you and I chatting outside the bookstore a couple weeks ago, and the other day I stayed in your apartment after everyone had already left. We see each other on a regular basis and these media vulptures have means to get information from everyone and twist it into lies. And I think you’ll remember about that gossip going on about a crisis in my marriage…”

“You think they’ll say I had something to do with the divorce.” She nodded, biting her lip in that cute way and averting her eyes.

“They might, yeah.” Tom cocked his head. “One sighting is enough for them, they plant their evil seed and watch it all crumble. Luke and I want to avoid any sort of harassment from their part, at least as much as we can. We’re also trying to keep them from bothering Sarah, my ex-wife.” He swallowed, the last word sounding heavy in his mind.

“Well, that’s very kind of you.” She shifted in her seat, understanding what he meant with all that. “So… I guess I am but the therapist that’s helping you through this rough path.” She suggested, and Tom could’nt help but notice how smart she was.

“Yes, that is the idea we had, yes…” He contorted his face, his eyebrows drawing closer. He did not want to bother her. “I’m sorry, Amy…”

“Sorry for what?” She blinked back.

“Well, you see, Luke and I tried to think of all the possibilities.” He took the cup from her hand and placed it on the floor, along with hers. He shifted in his seat and took her hands in his, trying to be gentle, because he knew the media wouldn’t. “All the assumptions they could make and all the means they could use to get the information they want and need to spread rumors about me, rumors that not only would involve Sarah, but could also involve you. For example, if they decided to spy through the shelves at the bookstore and saw me there, they would notice you. Of course, you’re not the only beautiful woman at the book club…” He nodded, raising his eyebrows and letting his thumbs circle on the back of her hands. “… but between a teenage girl who’s still in school, a college student who’s got a boyfriend, a literature teacher who’s married and a divorced therapist whom I have, to their overanalyzing minds, been seeing outside the book club, who do you think they would choose to shower with impertinent questions?”

To Tom’s surprise, she smiled, raised her eyebrows and shrugged, as if she answered his question. His mouth gaped, but then quickly smiled back, teeth bare. He looked down, his hands still caressing hers.

“Amy, I’m sorry about this-”

“Oh, no, Tom, don’t apologize.” He felt her warm hand leave his grip to touch him softly stroking his cheek. “This is not your fault… Some of those people chose to get paid to ruin people’s lives and invade their privacy.

“Yeah, but if you hadn’t met me…” Her hand felt so smooth against his light stubble… He cocked his head just a bit, nuzzling her soft palm.

“Well, maybe it’s a little bit your fault.” She whispered.

Tom laughed and looked up to meet Amy’s kind hazel eyes, the scent of almonds much more pronounced, as he noticed not only himself, but Amy as well had leaned closer. He looked from her eyes to her lips - they looked so soft, so invitingly close, that they made his mouth dry with want. He breathed in slowly, letting the air leave him through his lips. He bit the lower one, looked up to meet her eyes - she was anchored to her spot, but her cheeks had reddened.

“I should go.” Tom said, clearing his throat and raising his eyebrow.

He pushed himself up, but before he could offer a hand, Amy was on her feet, flustered and looking down. He opened his mouth to speak, but she bent to pick up the tea cups and turned away from him, going about to organize the room. Tom slipped his shoes on his feet and ran a hand through his blond hair, sighing and feeling his face hot.

“Alright, so… thank you for understanding, I… I should get going…”

He turned around and left the small kitchen, back to her office. With his hand on the knob to leave the place, Tom hesitated, thinking he could go back and…  _and what? Kiss her? No, I… I should leave._ And so he did, taking a taxi home.

-

When the taxi turned the corner, he saw the small crowd of men and women gathering across the street from his building, waiting for him to make an appearance. He nodded, acknowledging that either Luke had anonymously leaked something like they had agreed or that or that girl from Amy’s office had informed some gossip website of seeing him in a therapist’s office. The taxi pulled off, he paid the man, and the moment he stepped out, he heard his name being called and soon he was surrounded with cameras, phones and a couple of mics, and the bombing of questions began.

“Tom, is it true you’re divorced?”

“How long’s it been?”

“Why did it end, Tom?”

“Did she cheat on you?”

“Did you cheat on her, Tom?”

“Who did you cheat on her with?”

“Was it with the woman from the bookstore? Is that Amy?”

“How long have you been seeing Dr. Donovan? Were you and Sarah going together?”

“Is that Dr. Amanda Donovan? Is that Amy? Are you having an affair with your therapist?”

The showering of questions was constant, Tom barely had time to open his mouth to answer. Between all the petulant, saucy, impertinent and stupid ideas they were all throwing at him, he took a deep breath, assumed a collected demeanor and picked the ones he wanted to answer.

“Alright, alright, will you please calm down?” Without altering his voice, but trying to be assertive, he raised his hands to tell them to stop. “I’ll answer the questions if you actually let me.”

He swallowed and started.

“Yes, it’s true. Sarah and I are no longer together.” They tried to restart the questioning, but he raised his hands again and they calmed down. “It’s all very recent, so I would ask for your understanding and respect. As for your more  _curious_ questions… No, there was no cheating, neither from her nor myself. I’m sorry you will have to tell your readers and viewers that, but this was just the boring end of a relationship.”

“What about Amy?”

“Yeah, and Dr. Donovan!

“Dr. Donovan  _is_ Amanda.” He thought that not using a short name would be better. “She has been of great help during this difficult time, providing professional help as a therapist and nothing more.”

“Isn’t it a bit unprofessional to have a relationship with your patients outside the doctor’s office?”

_They really do their research, goddamn…_

“The relationship I have with Amanda barely qualifies a relationship at all. We are colleagues. Acquaintances. We see each other on this book club I go to - that’s me, her and six other people. We gather every week for Shakespeare and refreshments, and that’s it.”

“Was that what happened at Amanda’s apartment last week? You posted on Twitter-”

“Tom, what about-”

“Please. I would like for you to respect the moment I am going through. And please do not bother Sarah, this is as tough on her as it is on me and she will tell you nothing that I already haven’t.”

They kept showering him with crazy assumptions, but he simply pushed his way through them and inside the building.

“Please, no more questions.”

He knew they would still follow him for a couple days until his divorce was old news, and they would probably go after Sarah - and Amy - but he had done what he could and all he could do now was hope that the relationship between him and paparazzi would go back to be boring and respectful as it usually had been.

-

Later that same day, Amy said goodbye to the doorman at her office building and headed for her car, parked on the street. The moment she crossed the doors to the street, she saw them.  _Oh, God, already? Tom was right…_

“Dr. Donovan!” They all shouted, suddenly surrounding her and spilling their questionnaire.

“Is it true you are Tom Hiddleston’s therapist? You’ve been helping him through the divorce?”

“Yes, it is true.” She kept walking towards her car.

“You also know him from your meetings at the bookstore. Isn’t it unprofessional to keep a relationship with your patients outside your office?”

“Mr. Hiddleston and I barely see each other, if not during our appointments and at the book club gatherings, which I would hardly identify as a relationship.” She reached the door to her car, but they all cornered her.

“What about last week, when he stayed at your apartment after all the others from the book club had already left?”

“Are you having an affair with him, Amy?”

“Are you the reason Tom and Sarah had a divorce?”

“Isn’t it weird to be the therapist to the divorce you caused?”

“Were you really trying to help or you wanted him all to yourself?”

“I don’t know…” She raised her voice just a bit, enough to make them stop talking and listen to her. “… how am I to answer your questions when you’re not giving me time to do so.”

They stopped talking, and she took the opportunity to open her car door and step between the door and the seat, ready to leave as soon as she finished saying what she had to say. As a therapist, she was very good at making people get to the thoughts she wanted them to get.

“That’s better.” She answered, very put together. “Now, this is all very offensive and ridiculous. No, I am not having an affair with Tom Hiddleston, never had and do not plan on having. I was not the reason of the divorce, and if he did not tell you what it was, then most certainly I, as the therapist, will not as well. I believe you understand the concept or doctor-patient confidentiality. I know you are all doing your job and trying to feed the masses, but I, too, am only doing my job and helping my patient through this difficult time, I’m sorry if that is all too boring for you. That is all I have to say, so I would ask you, if you please, to not bother me any further.”

Of course they ignored that and restarted asking, but she jumped inside her car, shut the door and drove away from them.

_God, I hope they don’t give Tom such a hard time…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.


	6. Thinking of each other while...

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, Sarah.”

_“Tom? Wow.”_

“Sorry to be calling this late at night.”

_“Not at all, I’m just watching TV… How are you? Is everything alright?”_

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine, yeah. You?”

_“All good, you know… Oh! The neighbor’s pregnant!”_

“Really? That’s great.”

_“Isn’t it? They just found out last week, don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet, but they’re really excited.”_

“How great. I’m really happy for them.”

_“Yeah…”_

Silence.

“Listen, uh… So, the reason why I called is that I wanted to apologize.”

She laughed.

_“Of course you do… For what?”_

“For the paparazzi. Are they bothering you too much?”

_“Oh, not much, no. They did at first, but after a week of boring answers that matched yours, they decided to quit. Now they just take pictures and ask if I’ve talked to you lately.”_

“Oh, that’s better, then…”

Silence.

_“Tom?”_

“Yeah?”

_“Who’s Amy?”_

“What?”

_“A bunch of them kept talking about this Amy person, I just thought…”_

“Oh, she’s just a friend…”

_“They said something about an affair…”_

“What? No! I never-”

_“Oh, I know you didn’t… But they think we just got divorced, when it’s actually been almost three months, so I thought you were, well… Are you, uh, going out with her?”_

“No! No! Sarah, I swear I’m not!”

_“What do you mean you swear? Tom, you don’t owe me any explanation; you don’t owe anything at all.”_

“I know, it’s just that-”

_“Do you like her?”_

“Sorry?”

_“I asked you if you like her.”_

Silence.

_“Tom, it’s really okay if you’re seeing someone…”_

“Sarah, I’m… Wait a minute, are  _you_  seeing someone?”

_“No… I’m just saying that it’s fine if you are.”_

“So you’re giving me your blessing?”

_“Thomas, you don’t need my permission to do anything, we’re both adults and we’re not married anymore. If you like this girl, I’m not going to be the one to tell you that you should force yourself to be miserable for a certain amount of time and deny any good feeling that you have and need. If you like her, that’s your cue. It’s your feelings telling you that you’re ready to begin the process of putting all this behind you for good, and that’s… that’s actually okay, you know.”_

Silence.

“She  _is_  really nice.”

“Good. Just make sure you take things slow, you know…”

_“Yeah, I know…”_

Sigh.

_“Tom… I have to go… Was there anything else?”_

“No, no, that was it, yeah. Just called to apologize for your troubles…”

_“It’s alright.”_

“Sarah?”

_“Yeah?”_

“Thank you.”

_“No problem. … Bye…”_

“Bye…”

-

He had called Sarah around half past eleven the night before. He had spent the whole day wondering if he should actually do it, staring at his phone, scrolling up and down his contact list as he now and then stopped at her name. He hadn’t deleted her number and he wasn’t thinking about doing it, not because he still had feelings for Sarah - no, that had ended many months ago - but because despite not loving her as a husband loves a wife, Tom still held her dear and wished that someday…  _No, I don’t think we can be friends… It would just be so weird… But maybe not… Fuck, who knows… Alright, I’ll call her._

And so he did. It was less awkward than he had imagined, but awkward nonetheless. Still, the silence Tom had gotten used to during the last few months of the marriage seemed somehow comforting, as if he could tell that, on the other end of the line, she felt the same way. But it was her words that had the biggest effect on him.  _“It’s your feelings telling you that you’re ready…”_ Was he really? He was staring at his phone again. This time, sitting at the coffee shop down the street, munching on chocolate chip cookies while his creamy capuccino resting on the table.  _“… force yourself to be miserable…”_ Could he actually be doing that? Of course, he was a recently divorced man, and it had been tough on him. Yes, Luke had been helping him and the book club was actually a great escape valve - even though it was more about literature than his private feelings, he felt it was doing him good - but for how long should he grief? Was there an specific amount of time?  _“… that’s actually okay, you know…”_ Maybe it was different to each person. Was it inconsiderate of him to like someone so soon? Was it soon? He didn’t love Amy, not in the way he had once loved Sarah, but he was very fond of her. He liked her. He thought about her. And right now, he was thinking if he should send the text.

 _“I want to make up for the paparazzi. Tea?”_  He had typed.

Tom pressed send. He swallowed hard, his heart tight in his chest. Oh, God, what if she-

 _“Tea would be great.”_ There was even a smiley face.

-

Six weeks passed. The first time Tom and Amy met after the whole papparazzi deal was when he showed up at her office and they sat on the low bean bags with hot tea cups in their hands, picking from the variety of mini cupcakes Tom had brought in a box. He apologized for the press harassment, which slowly became inexistent - afterall, his divorce would become old news. Still, using the media as an excuse, Tom insisted in continuing with the fake sessions, telling Amy it was just to add some truth to their story. And Amy pretended she was only agreeing to continue to help Tom, not letting him know that she rather enjoyed sitting by his side and talking about everything and nothing at the same time, even if just for an hour. Sometimes Tom would come twice in a week, and she found herself smiling at her cellphone screen when he suggested a second “appointment”.

Sometimes they talked about Shakespeare and other authors, even though they still met every Thursday afternoon at the book club for the same purpose. They would also talk about Tom’s career, specially if he had just gotten back from an  interview or an audition. Tom seemed very interested in learning about Amy’s family, curious about her last name. Apparently her grandmother was Mexican and married this British man who worked in this multinational in Monterrey. After a few years, he was transferred back to England and she came with him, bringing their only son with them. Amy had a younger sister who worked as an assistant buyer for this great fashion magazine. Tom told her about his sisters, Emma and Sarah, and how it was for him going to Ethon and RADA… At one point, Tom found himself lying on the soft carpet, knees bent and hands gesticulating, his head on Amy’s lap as he looked up to make her laugh by telling this embarassing experience he once had on stage. In return, she told him how she had gotten the L shaped scar on her lower back, just above the right side of her hip.

“Sure, I can laugh about it now, but can you imagine a seven year old girl with a cut this big in her back.”

“How big?” He asked.

He was now sitting by her side, on his heels, turned to face her as she rested against the wall, her legs stretched on the floor, one foot on top of the other.

“Well, it’s smaller now that I’ve grown, but when I was little it looked huge.”

“Can I see it?” He felt his Adam’s apple bob up and down and a faint twitch in his crotch.

She stood on her knees and turned back to him and simply raised a bit of her top to reveal the scar. It was about two inches long, but the L shape made it look smaller. The skin ther was a shade lighter, and seemed very sensitive. Tom felt his hands itching to touch her.

“May I feel?” Said he,* his voice coming out lower than expected.

“It’s a bit sensitve. I’ll squeal.” Said she,* swallowing hard at the thought of feeling those long fingers - oh, yes, she had noticed them - touch her skin.

“Just once.” Said he, nearly whispering.

“Alright.” She rolled her eyes, a slight smile curling her lips.

Tom raised his hand and hovered it close to her skin for a second before actually touching her gently. Indeed, she squealed. He chuckled hoarsely, and felt the slight salience that was the mark. Suddenly he was very aware of the sweet scent coming from her hair, the waves cascading down her back.

“That must have hurt…” His voice was low.

“It did.” She said, lowering her top and sitting down again. “But it’s part of being a child. And when you grow up it doesn’t change that much. Except when you’re little you’re hurt in one moment, and in the next you’re back to enjoying life.”

“That’s the beauty of being a child.” Tom sat back on the floor, bending his knees in front of him.

“Children do it because to them living is… well, it’s fun.” Said she.* “But it shouldn’t just happen when we’re children, we should carry this throughout our lives. Not let pain and grief eat more of us than necessary. We think it’s disrespectful not to be sad, but once you’ve suffered enough, it’s disrespectful to ourselves to forbid our hearts to be happy and not feel guilty about it. We shouldn’t let other people make us feel guilty, because it’s  _our_  hearts and we’re the one feeling what’s inside of it. Of course, there will be scars, and some of them will mark you for the rest of your life, but why focus on two inches of pain, when the world is filled with beauty and happiness?”

Later that day, thinking on those words, Tom would curse himself for not having kissed her.

-

He pulled the key from this gym shorts pocket and turned it on the lock. Entering his apartment and throwing the keys on the couch, he found himself craving for a hot shower after such an intense morning run. He took his shoes and socks off and entered the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping himself. Tom stepped under the hot water, feeling it against his skin and relaxing his muscles. He was halfway with scrubbing soap all over his body when he felt the warmth in his lower stomach, the light twich on his cock, and the image that invaded his mind was the most taunting one. It was Amy, she was on her knees, back turned to him, lifting her shirt to expose her scar, like she had done the other day, except now she didn’t stop. She removed her shirt, tossed it aside, then unclasped her bra and let it fall on the floor. Fuck. His cock was already semi hard. Tom sighed, his eyes fluttering close as he let his hand wrap around his gifted girth and give it a lazy twist.

The scene on his mind continued. He could see her turning around, he could see her bare breasts. The hand on his cock began to slowly move up and down, the soapy warm water acting as lubricant, his moans starting to fill the steamy air. This wasn’t the first time he had touched himself thinking of her, he just couldn’t help it, she was incredible, gorgeous and, he could only wonder, delicious. This one time she had been wearing a scarf around her neck, and after a while she removed it, revealing a nice v-neck underneath, which only left it to Tom’s imagination as he could see very little into her cleavage. Still, they looked delicious. He stroked himself, circling his thumb on the crown of his cock and thinking of burying his face between those beautiful breasts. Oh, they would be warm and soft, and they would smell of almonds… They would _taste_  of almonds… He wanted to lick them so bad… His hands rubbed quicker and quicker, and he was breathing heavily in the steamy hot air as the thought of enveloping his lips around the hardened nipples. Lick them. Bite them. Suck them. He wanted to pull them between his teeth. He wanted to feel her writhe underneath him.

“Oh, God!” Tom panted, having to lean his back against the wall for support.

He wanted… He wanted… He wanted her… He wanted to kiss her, to feel her, to touch her… He wanted to slip his hands between her thighs and make her moan his name…

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, Amy!”

He let his other hand cup his balls and gently squeeze them, rolling them between his fingers. His upper body leaned forward a bit, his stomach twitching. He was so close… And he wanted to her to be as well. He wanted to bring her to the edge, to make her scream and roll her eyes and arch her back and squeeze his cock with her hot cunt as she-

 _“Holy fuck! Amy!_ _”_  The shot of hot cum spilled out of him. Hard.

He leaned back against the wall, lazily pumpimg his softnening cock and riding out his release. He opened his eyes to the white steam in the air blurring his sight; the smell of soap and cum now mixed, and the noise of the water still running. Tom was panting. He ran his hand through his wet hair and stepped under the shower, his knees still a little week. Tomorrow would be Thursday, he’d see her at the book club, and the idea of texting everyone and suggest that tomorrow’s meeting happened in his apartment seemed very appealing.

-

Amy turned her iPad off and placed it on the nightstand, turning on her side and pulling the covers closer. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, snuggling comfortably to fall asleep. Before she did, she tried remembering the things she had to do the next day, just to see if she wasn’t forgetting anything. The patients, the laundry, the groceries… oh, yeah, book club was at Tom’s tomorrow. He had texted everyone in the group suggesting that tomorrow’s meeting took place at his apartment, and everyone had agreed, including her. Suddenly, she caught herself thinking what would she wear. Well, it wasn’t any special occasion, it was book club like any other day, but she would see Tom, and she would be at his apartment, maybe even stay for a while after everyone left, like he did the other time…

Inexplicably, she felt something ghosting over the small of her back, near the scar she had from her childhood. It made her writhe and gasp, and suddenly she felt her slit warmer. Amy sighed and swallowed, letting her hand roam down to her mound, as she remembered the way Tom looked at her sometimes. Those deep blue eyes, staring down at her… Oh, she was so wet for him… The memory of his touch was fresh, and she could use her imagination to make it last longer, to make it better. Amy circled her wet clit with her finger, biting her lips to hold back a moan. Oh, those hands, those long fingers… She wished they would be the ones touching her as she turned on her back and spread her legs, bending her knees to open wider to her own hand, as she teased herself, getting close to slipping a finger in, but coming back to her clit and massaging it through the wetness. Amy licked her lips, her breathing already heavy and shallow. She imagined that when he touched her the other day, he didn’t stop.

She imagined that his hands would circle around her hips, feeling her skin, and bring her closer to him. She could feel his warmth, Tom pressing his erection against her ass…

“Hm, yes…” Amy moaned, letting two fingers slip inside her aching cunt.

She pumped them, slowly at first, coating them in her own juices as her other hand slid up to knead her breasts. She thought of Tom’s hands making their way down her pants, finding her oh so wet for him, so ready and longing for his touch. She would lay her head on his shoulder and he would slip his hands under her shirt and grab her breasts, pinch her nipples, just like she was doing now, eliciting louder moans from herself. She moved faster, her fingers moving in and out of her slit, the wet sounds of mixing with the whispers and moans that filled the room as she pressed her palm against her clit. She was getting louder and closer, and the image in her head was only getting hotter as Tom was now grinding his cock against her ass, biting her neck and grunting against her skin, his fingers touching just the right spot inside her, like she was doing right now.

“God! Oh, my God! Oh, fuck, Tom!” She was panting, sweating, trembling.

Her orgasm hit her like a merciless wave, starting from her clit and crashing down her legs and up her stomach, making her writhe and arch her back, moaning his name in the darkness of her room. She threw her head back, her hand slowly reducing rhythm to ride out her release as her heavy breathing became a steady one. The hot sweat on her forehead was turning cold, the image of Tom finger fucking her slowly fading away, though she still wished it all had been real, so he would be there now to kiss her and hold her in his arms to keep her warm. Tomorrow she was going to see him. Well, good thing she knew how to put on a poker face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.


	7. E. E. Cummings and hastiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book club meeting is in Tom’s apartment and Amy shows up dressed like sex on a stick.

Christina had already arrived, boxes in hand (she insisted on always bringing the snacks, saying it was her duty as the host of the group) and was now talking with Tom, Jack and Steve about how awful it was that Lucy couldn’t make it today. The young girl had called Christie earlier that day, saying she had sprained her ankle during P.E. and couldn’t make it to the meeting - they had all texted her, of course, wishing her well. Tom heard the doorbell buzzing and went to open it. It was Jim an Tamara. Tom opened the door of his apartment for them, a welcoming smile on his lips, kissed Tammy’s cheek and shook Jim’s hand. Telling them to make themselves comfortable, he was about to close the door when he heard her voice coming from the corridor.

“Oh, hold the door open, I’m here.” It was Amy.

He pulled it open, and the moment he planted eyes on her, his jaw dropped to the floor. Stunning. Breathtaking.  _Wow_. She was wearing nothing less than a tight black skirt that reached  just above her knees, with sheer black stockings and red high heels, and a satin white top covered by a nice dark green jacket that went really well with her olive skin tone. She was positively sinful in that outfit, rushing down the corridor to greet him with a smile on her lips.

“Hey, Tom.” She leaned in for a kiss on the cheek.

“ _Hi_.” His voice failed him as he kissed her cheek. “Hi, how you doing?” Better.

“I’m doing good.”

“You look good.”  _Jesus, idiot, keep it in your pants, he thought._

“Thank you. And you?”

“Oh, you know, I’m doing fine…”  _I’m such a fucking tit…_

He led her to the living room, where everyone else was gathered around in the couch and chairs, chatting about general things before they started their usual discussion about Shakespeare. He couldn’t help but notice that her skirt had a slit in the back, probably to give her legs some room to move about, but all it did was make it all the more sexy. To make it worse, she took off her jacket and revealed her top to be held only by two thin straps on her shoulders, her soft olive skin glowing beautifully. Swallowing hard, Tom sat down and joined the others.

“Okay… so, guys…” Christina started, seeming a bit unsure. “I know I said in the last meeting that we would discuss if Shakespeare should be introduced to teenagers in highschool, but since Lucy couldn’t be here today, I wonder if we could talk about something else.” They all looked at her quite puzzled, and she continued, but not before she took a deep breath. “There’s this subject I’ve been thinking of bringing up to our group discussions for a while now, but I wasn’t sure if I should because Lucy is just a young girl, she’s underage. We all know eroticism and sex is quite present in Shakespeare’s work and I was wondering if everyone feels comfortable enough to discuss that. Is it alright with everyone? We can change the subject if someone is uncomfortable with it, I always got some ideas up my sleeve.”

Everyone nodded and murmured general words of agreement and Tom politely sided with them, even though all he could think was  _really? Eroticism? Sex? Today? Amy’s fucking dressed like sex on a stick and you want to talk about sex? Oh, fucking hell…_

“Then I propose that today’s conversation would be about erotic literature. Well, that is, of course, if Tom allows us to talk about it under his roof. Tom?” She turned to him.

They all looked at him. It wasn’t like they couldn’t talk about this without giggling like young girls or making stupid jokes like young boys or gasping like prudish old ladies. Still, it was Tom’s apartment and if he did not want to talk about it, they would respect it.

“Of course.” He smiled, being as corteous as he could.  _Fuck_.

His manners got in the way again. After all, Christina had waited God knows how long to bring this up and she finally could, now that Lucy was, in a ironic mix of ‘unfortunately’ and ‘conveniently’, absent. Who knows when they would ever get another chance to talk about it?, and it actually was an interesting topic.

So the discussion started and unrolled itself. Of course they mentioned the constant dick jokes in the plays and Shakespeare always discussed sexuality, and if the first 126 sonnets could actually have been written to a man. Then they started with the metaphors and hidden meanings, and identity, and context, and many sorts of things. Here and there in the conversation, another author popped up as usual. This was a Shakespeare book club, yes, but you can never talk about art and be so specific to the point of not correlating artists.

One of Steve’s favorite erotic poems was a Pablo Neruda sonnet:

_I hunger for your sleek laugh,_   
_your hands the color of a savage harvest,_   
_hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,_   
_I want to eat your skin like a whole almond._

Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose, for when Steve recited it, that was the exact moment Amy pulled out a small tube of lotion from her purse and spreaded on her hands, filling the room with the almond scent he had caught himself craving now and then. The thought of how soft her hands would be stroking his cock up and down invaded his mind.  _Keep it in your pants, Hiddleston,_ he swallowed. Jack was more fond of To His Coy Mistress, by Andrew Marvel:

_Let us roll all our strength, and all_   
_Our sweetness, up into one ball;_   
_And tear our pleasures with rough strife_   
_Thorough the iron gates of life._   
_Thus, though we cannot make our sun_   
_Stand still, yet we will make him run._

He had to unbutton his collar and roll up his sleeves as he felt suddenly a lot hotter, the image of Amy pressed against him, trapped in his embrace while both of them lied in naked in bed…  _I’m so fucked…_  Jim licked his lips with a cheeky smile as he knew Tamara would slap his arm for his naughty choice, but he recited Silk of a Soul, written by Zbigniew Herbert:

_I must_   
_peek inside her_   
_to see what she wears_   
_at her centre_   
  
_when she slept_   
_with her lips open_   
_I peeked._

As if the poem weren’t enough, while Tamara started on her favorites, Amy uncrossed her legs and crossed them again, making Tom wonder all sorts of things - what underwear was she wearing;  _(_ _Is she wearing any? Control yourself!_ _)_  what color would she be between her legs; how wet could be make her; how hot would her quim feel around his-  _Fuck_.

He was thankful when it ended - it was almost getting impossible to tame his persistent hard on - and they all gathered around food and drinks to chat about anything else but sex. Tom noticed Amy was coming to talk to him, and felt stomach disappear and get replaced by some fluttering nervousness.

“Hey, I remember that a couple of weeks ago you mentioned your study and all the books you had…” She said. “Would you mind showing it to us?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Jack commented from the other side of the table.

Relieved that we wouldn’t have to hold a proper conversation with Amy right now, he led the six of them to the small office where he kept his books, scripts, some letters from fans and other whatnots. They went around looking, talking about a book here and there and, of course, his Shakespeare collection. For some moment, Tom occupied his mind with that and tried not to think of Amy or her body.

-

“Bye, darling, see you next week.”

Christina kissed his cheek and turned around to walk down the hallway and take the lift. He wished she could have stayed, as he was now left alone with Amy. He took a deep breath and decided he would just tell her he had to read a script or do whatever so she could take the hint and leave. If she stayed, dressed like that, smelling like that, looking like that, Tom was going to have a massive wank the moment closed the door behind her. He heard a shuffling noise coming from his study.

“Amy?” He asked, walking towards it. “Is that you in there?”

“Uh, yes…” He heard her voice. “I could use a hand here, Tom. Would you mind?”

“No, not at all, darling.” And then he saw her.

_You have got to be kidding me._ She had her back turned to him, standing on the toes of her red high heels, the sheer black stockings covering her calves like the wrappings of a sinful caramel, her ass deliciously pointing upwards, the top that she had tucked in her skirt, and the soft fabric stretching due to the fact that she had her arms raised and tried her best to reach a book on a higher shelf. It was already the end of the afternoon, and she hadn’t turned the lights back on after everyone had left, so the vision he had of that amazing body was half covered in the soft darkness that slowly replaced the light of the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She said still trying, and Tom felt his cock twitch in his pants. “I’m trying to reach that E. E. Cummings, could you grab it for me?

_Make a move, Hiddleston._ The little voice in his head had a lot more confidence than his stammering heart, and apparently his legs seemed to obey it. In a second he was behind her, too close for comfort, his whole body gingerly pressing against hers. She gasped. Tom lifted his hand and picked up the book Amy wanted, placing it in the hand she had up in the air. His hand then grazed at hers, his fingers slowly running down her wrist, her arm, her elbow… He didn’t stop at her shoulder, but let his hand slide down the side of her breasts, the curve of her waist, all the way down until he rested it on her hip. The smell of almonds was intoxicating from this nearly nonexistent distance. Amy licked her lips and lowered her arm, her heart pounding in her chest and her face growing hot. She could feel him hardening and pressing against her ass, his other hand barely touching hers, delicately moving up her arm until he grabbed a hold just above her elbow.

“May I stay, said he.”* His voice was low and husky, despite the nervousness in his chest.

_Is he quoting E. E. Cummings?_  She thought. _Alright…_

“Which way, said she.”* Amy whispered back, turning her head just a little.

“Like this, said he.”* Tom muttered as he nuzzled the hair pooling at the curve of her neck.

“If you kiss, said she.”* Amy closed her eyes, letting her head fall back.

He planted a tender kiss on her neck, and she breathed sharply as a shiver ran down her spine. He continued to kiss, slowly trailing down her shoulder, his hand caressing the skin before he kissed, his fingers pushing aside the strap of her top and letting it fall. He turned her around, his hands resting at her waist. She slipped the book behind her, placing it on the shelf. She wanted him to kiss her - as a matter of fact, she had been wanting to feel his lips for a few weeks now. It was somewhat awkard to spend those hours in her office just talking over tea, and more than once she thought they had shared a moment, but she never took the first step. His divorce was recent, she didn’t want to poke an open wound. But now there he was, so close to her, holding her in his arms, their lips almost touching, his scent intoxicating… She raised her hands a bit and grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt and tugged lightly.

“Tom…”

Her whisper was barely audible, and it was all it took to make him launch himself on her, his lips clashing against hers, his hands circling to her back and pulling her closer at the same time he pressed her body against the shelves. He dropped a hand to her thigh and pulled behind her knee to bring her leg up. Tom began to grind his erection against her crotch, making Amy moan into the kiss. He was hungry for her, craving her for weeks now, and his body screamed with the urge to fuck. He had been divorced over four months now, almost five. During this whole he hadn’t been with a woman, relieving the tension in his himself. Even before that actually, many weeks before the divorce, he and Sarah had given up on faking either of them desired the other. He had been lonely for too long now, his body needed the touch, the taste, the feeling. She pulled harder on his shirt, and as his hand slipped to grab her ass he noticed she was wearing thigh highs.  _Holy Christ._  His lips left hers to kiss her chin, her jaw, nibble at her earlobe and suck on her neck. Her hands ran up his chest to wrap around his neck. His pants were too tight for his rock hard cock. He needed more, he wanted more…

His stomach went cold. Pulsed, twitched, tightened. Something was wrong. His chest felt compressed, his heart was being squeezed until it hurt. It felt like someone had their hands around his throat, making it harder to breathe. Still, he kept kissing her neck, trying to ignore the heavy, horrible feeling invading him. There were tears on the rims of his eyes, and he tried to discretely dry them on the sleeve of shirt, as his head was lowered on her shoulders.

“Tom?”

_Fuck_. He stopped, his body freezing with a hand on her ass, the other on the small of her back and his head dipped on the curve of her neck. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. Tom took a step back, his head still low.

“I’m sorry.” He stepped a bit more. “I can’t do this.”

“Tom, it’s okay.” She pulled the strap of her top back in place.

“No, it’s not.” He leaned against the desk, still avoiding her eyes. “It’s… I… I want to, but I can’t.”

“I understand.”

“Yes, but the thing is I like you, Amy.” He raised his head to look at her, his hands moving to express how anxious he felt right now.

“Well, I like you, too.” She stepped closer, but kept a thoughtful distance, a smile playing in her lips.

“No… I  ** _like_  **like you. I really do.” He shook his head and pressed his lips. “But I can’t do this to you.”

“Wait, what do you mean  _to me_?”

“I loved Sarah so  _much_ , I loved her so much it hurt. And then it hurt not loving her, because while we were still together, I could see what I had done. Everyday I looked at her and… to see the woman I had made so happy slowly turning into a miserable silent mess… And I was no different.”

“Tom, the divorce wasn’t your fault.” She took another step, a compassionate look in her eyes.

“I felt horrible because I promised to love her for the rest of my life and I failed.” His voice broke, he could feel the thightness in his chest again and the iminent tears threatening to fall. “I failed her.”

“Thomas, you don’t owe your feelings to anybody.” A bit unsure if she should, she raised a hand and tenderly stroked his harm, trying to calm him. “Nobody does. They’re hard enough to control, you don’t need the extra pressure of thinking it’s your obligation to feel or do a certain thing. It only results in more pain.”

“Look, Amy, I really like you.” He tried to change the subject. “I mean, you’re beautiful, and you’re so kind and smart. And we have a lot in common. Under different circumstances this would be easy, but right now I just don’t feel like I can do this.”

“I really like you too, Tom.” She leaned agaisnt the desk by his side. “And I really want to help you, but-”

“Things are gonna get awkward now, aren’t they?” He turned his head to look at her, but not really into her eyes.

“There’s a good chance, yeah.”

Not knowing quite why, they both laughed, like you do when you’re sad and someone tries to cheer you up. Then silence fell, and after a moment of it, she turned to him and spoke.

“Do you want to stop with the fake therapy sessions?”

“That would be nice, I guess.” He nodded. “I mean, if it’s alright with you.”

Amy nodded, agreeing silently. She sighed heavily and pushed herself from the desk.

“Well, I guess I should be going now…”

He didn’t say anything, only walked her to the door. She grabbed her jacket and bag and waited for him to open the door for her. Tom was still avoiding her eyes, and when she stepped into the hall and turned to speak to him, she dared to bring a finger to his chin and raise his head so his eyes would meet hers.

“Are you going to be alright?” Her eyes were the kindest and her voice, the softest.

Tom gazed into her hazel eyes, seeing them warm and friendly, truly caring about him. He took a moment to look at her and memorize her face. The soft olive skin, the glimmering eyes, the delicate nose, the full lips - the lips he had just tasted. He was going to say something, tell her he’d be fine, but then he caught himself wanting nothing more than to taste her mouth again. He took the hand on his chin between his fingers and kissed it, his eyes not leaving hers. He intertwined his fingers with hers as his other hand moved up to cup her jaw. He leaned in and brought her closer, until there was nothing left but kissing her. He softly touched her lips with his, and she parted them when she felt his tongue asking permission. He felt warmer and desperate, as if he could be skin on skin with her and he’d still pull her closer. Without the rush and the desire from before, this kiss was slow, lazy, each of them taking their time to taste each other. When he finally broke the kiss, he stared into her eyes, even if it took her a moment to open them.

“You know…” A half smile played across his lips. “I do like kissing you.”


	8. Try a little tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Amy go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I change a tad bit of the poem, I hope you don’t mind.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her lips. Sometimes he would close his eyes and concentrate, trying to dig from his memory the taste of her. More than once Tom caught himself bringing his fingers to brush against his lips as he remembered the softness of hers. He foundout that her scent had lingered on his study for a day or two and he would spend more time than necessary in the room just to smell the faint trail of almonds.Tom had shamelessly touched himself to the memory of her body - he had fully groped her ass, had ran his hands up her thighs, had kissed her neck and in his mind, he imagined himself going further. He could picture her naked body in his arms as he fucked her up against the bookcase; he could see in his mind her tits bouncing up and down as she would ride him right there, on the floor of his study.

The week passed and Tom didn’t see Amy, as they had agreed to no longer continue with the fake therapy sessions. He convinced himself it was for the best. His divorce ws recent and he felt like he should wait longer to try and start and sort of romantic affair. He felt that his grief was just now leaving his heart, making room for his cheerfulness to fill his chest again. But he also felt the need of being with someone. He found himself wanting someone to share his pain. Of course, Tom had his family and friends, and even his fans, who after he announced his divorce, had sent loving letters, comforting tweets and thoughtful presents. Still, he found himself craving the known feeling of falling asleep in a woman’s arms, his cheek against her warm naked breats, his arm around her waist, their legs entangled. It was different from the comfort of a mother or the compassion of a friend. It was a unique feeling, getting lost in the passion, being vulnerable in  her arms, nothing else but honesty between them. Tom craved that, his heart ached with need. And in his moments of solitude, when he close his eyes to wish for a loving companion, no one else came to mind but Amy.

Unfortunately, Tom had an interview on a radio show scheduled for Thursday afternoon, at the same time his book club meeting was supposed to happen. He texted Christina to apologize and explain, and thought of sending a text to Amy, but realized it could come off a bit too desperate and soon. To his surprise, as he left the radio station and headed for the tube, his phone buzzed with a text from her.

_We missed you today :)_

His heart skipped a beat. A tiny voice in a corner of his brain told him she meant “I”, not “we”. He swallowed hard. Tom wanted to be cheeky, flirty, foward, but it was like something was anchoring him, holding his confidence back.

_Sorry_

The moment he pressed send he mentally called himself an idiot.  _Ugh_. He thought of sending something else, adding something to the text, but before Tom could decide what to type, his phone buzzed.

_It’s okay_

He barely time to think of an answer and another one came in.

_R u coming next week?_

He pursed his lips. No, he wasn’t. He had was leaving on Monday and was going to spend a couple of weeks in the United States for this new role he was preparing himself for.

_Probably not. Sorry :/_

He felt like he needed to explain.

_Gotta go to US for a movie thing_

Her reply came in no time.

_How long will u b gone?_

Something was starting to stirr in his mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

_About 2 weeks. Sorry_

She answered:

_It’s alright_

And added:

_But I’ll miss you_

He wish he could say only his face lit up, but when he read those words, so clear and straight, he somehow could feel his heart smiling inside him. And it was an oddly familiar feeling. He mustered the courage to type an honest answer.

_I’ll miss you too_

And now for the tricky part. Tom felt his heart tighten and skip a beat.  _Okay. This is it._ _No. What if… Stop. Do it. But… Just do it! Oh God…_  He had to do it. Maybe it was too soon, but he just couldn’t wait any longer. He… He wanted her.  _“It’s your feelings telling you that you’re ready…”_ , he remembered and pressed send.

_Maybe we could meet before I leave_

_Fuck_. The moment he sent it he couldn’t tell if he wish he couldn’t go back in time and undo it, or if it was the expectation that was making his mind and heart bet a race.  _Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh Goood…_  Was he breathing? He could have broken the screen, so hasty he was to check her new message.

_R u asking me out?_

He swallowed the lump in his throat and went for it. Actually, he had already jumped, now he was only hoping the parachute would open.

_Yes_

_Okay_

Fire- no, hold on.

_Really?_

_Yeah, silly. I’ll go out with you_

Oh, yeah, fireworks. He felt a huge weight being lifted from his chest and he couldn’t help but smile from eart to ear. It took him a couple of moments to pull himself together, and later Tom would look back and notice how he had reacted like a teenager.  _Okay, alright._  He had to act his age at some point.

_Where u wanna go?_

_U figure it out, mr. gentleman ;)_

_Alright. Text you back?_

_Sure_

_My patient’s here. Gotta go. xx_

_Oh, look, she sent kisses!_  He thought, smiling giddily, before lowering his brows when he realized he should match her answer and enthusiasm.  _I should send them back. One? Two? Three? She sent two, I’m gonna sent two. I don’t want to underkiss and three might look too desperate._

_Okay. See you. xx_

-

Tom had made reservations for Saturday at one of his favorite restaurants. He also asked for a private room, not only because he was a recently divorced celebrity going on a date, but also (and mainly) because he wanted to be alone with Amy. He had planned everything and texted her a time to pick her up. He had spent longer than he’d ever admit picking out an outfit and, even though he was quite pleased with his choice for a dinner jacket, he couldn’t stop fidgeting with his suit and wondering if she’d like it. As he drove to her apartment, he stopped at a red light. Tom couldn’t help but looking in the mirror to check his face and hair. _Ugh_. He rolled his eyes and ran his hand down his face.  _Why am I so nervous about this? It’s just a date. I’ve been to dozens of those._  He pressed a fisted hand against his pursed lips.  _What if I screw this up again? No. Shut up, Hiddleston, the divorce wasn’t your fault._ He let his head fall back and grabbed tightly at the wheel as inflated his cheeks and blew out all the air, staring at the ceiling of the car.  _Alright, Tom, pull yourself together, man… This is just-_ the car behind him honked impatient, startling him, and he noticed the light had turned green.

When he arrived at her apartment, he had a plan. Well, it wasn’t really a plan, as it was his natural attitude being a gentleman. Tom thought he should go up to meet her and properly go inside for a moment, make some small talk, compliment her on her look, perhaps wait for her to finish getting ready. Most of all, he wanted to kiss her, but wasn’t sure if he should. It sounded silly in his head, they had already kissed, and they were going on a date, but somehow it seemed that it would be too forward of him to kiss her on the spot. Tom got out and buzzed through the intercom to tell her he had arrived, and asked her to let him in. Amy, however, said she was already on her way down, and he should wait for her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and paced around a bit before leaning against his Jaguar to wait for her. When he heard the heels clicking, he lifted his eyes to meet Amy’s, and his mouth gaped when he saw her, a vision in [pink](http://38.media.tumblr.com/7aa5a7940733d7568732b04520a25c75/tumblr_nae0jtBiqd1qjscwto1_1280.jpg). His own thoughts were stuttering. The coat was so elegant, but it did nothing to hide the figure hugging dress she had chose, which teased him with the bits of her cleavage. Tomprayed his auto pilot was on, because he could tell she was talking to him, but he was just too busy taking in the beauty of her to formulate a coherent answer. He hoped to God that the words that tripped out of his mouth had been polite and chivalrous, not forgetting to compliment her on her beauty.

He must have said something right, because she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He felt his stomach disappear and his heart expanding warmly in his chest. Even his face seemed to be heating up, and he knew he was blushing, but in that moment he didn’t care. Tom held her in his arms and went for it, parting his lips to give access to her tongue. God, she  smelled good, tasted good, felt good. Felt right. She tangled her fingers in his hair and Tom ran his hand up her back, bringing her closer. When they finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless and dazed with smiles on their lips.

“Wow.” He heard her whisper once he had come down from the high she had caused him. Shit, he was in love.

He pulled himself together and opened the door for her so she could get in the car and went around to get in the driver’s seat. He put his driving glasses on, and heard her snicker.

“Don’t laugh!” He was sort of laughing himself. “I need these.”

“I’m not laughing.” She bit her lips to stop herself.

“Yes, you are!” He started the car and got out of the curb.

“I’m sorry, you just look so cute in them.”

“No, I don’t…” He rolled his eyes. “Do I?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “Goofy cute.”

“Is goofy cute a good thing?” He quickly looked at her then turned his attention back to the traffic.

“Since when are you insecure?”

“Well, I’m going out on a date with a beautiful girl.” He shrugged. “I gotta look my best, don’t you think?”

“Ah… now  _there’s_  the Tom I know.” He licked his lips and smiled. “Just so you know, you look positively tempting in that suit.”

“Really? And what are you tempted to do?” He squinted his eyes with a mocking smirk on his lips and side glanced at her.

“Not in a moving car, Thomas.” She said, her tone dropping an octave to sound more seductive. “I don’t want to crash this beautiful Jag.”

Tom bit his lips and raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes on the traffic. He couldn’t help but hide the smug trace of a smile on his lips, though. They arrived at the restaurant and Tom tried to be discrete as he took in every curve of her body when the usher took her coat. He noticed how Amy followed his lead before he even had to ask, and walked through the room trying to not call attention to them as the usher led them to the private room. Tom was very proud of himself when he saw the look in her face the moment they stepped into the room. It was perfect. He had the whole place decorated in glowing earthy tones, the lighting was perfect and there were candles spread everywhere, so the room was positively golden. There was music too, all songs picked by Tom with the intent of making the evening perfect. He pulled the chair for her and sat across the table. She picked up the small ornament in the middle of the table, a small glass bowl filled with pink roses.

“These are beautiful.” She said, putting it down after having a look.

“Their beauty falls short from yours, darling.”

“That’s a cheesy line turned into a poem verse.” She squinted her eyes.

“Doesn’t make it any less truth.” He looked at her from under his lashes. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

They ordered their food and found something to talk about very easily, as it had always happened to them. Throughout the whole night Tom felt a nervousness in his stomach. It felt so good being there with her, on a date, being romantic and chivalrous and flirty. At certain point in the evening, he questioned himself, wondering it was okay for him to feel like that. Before he could screw things up for overthinking, he stood on his feet and extended a hand to ask her to dance with him. At that point, Lovesong by Adele was ending and[Try A Little Tenderness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lBqmJ9s3Ws) by was just starting. He circled an arm around her waist and with other hand, held hers gently between their chests.

He couldn’t stop feeling as if he was drowning in all the good feelings. His heart felt warm and his eyes couldn’t believe the beauty in front of them. At the same time, he knew there was more to her than that shiny hazel gaze and her soft olive skin. She was smart (well, someone who analyzes the human mind for a living couldn’t be less than that, but she was really something), kind, caring, well read, generous, funny… but most of all, she was understanding. That’s what had brought them together, her ability to understand his pain caused by the divorce, and how thoughtful and respectful she always showed to be. As the song went on, Tom realized something.

_She may be waiting_  
 _Just anticipating_  
 _Things she may never possess_   
_But while she’s without them_   
_Try a little tenderness_

He didn’t want her to be thoughtful anymore.

_It’s not just sentimental_   
_She has her grief_   
_And her care_   
_But a word_   
_So soft and gentle_   
_Makes it easier to bear_

Yes, that’s what it was. He wanted her. He needed her. He… He was in love with her. Maybe the wound was still fresh, maybe it was still open, but he knew she would take care of it with all the tenderness possible.

_You won’t regret it_   
_Women don’t forget it_   
_Love is their whole happiness_   
_And it’s oh so easy_   
_Try a little tenderness_

“Amy?” His voice was low and smooth.

“Yeah.” She whispered, looking into his blue eyes.

“I… I want this to work.”

She smiled.

“So do I.”

“Good… There’s just… I just wanted to say that…” She looked at him as if she was hooked on every word. “After the divorce, I got somewhat shaken, and I’m still getting back on my feet.”

“I understand.” Her voice was soft, like everything else in her. “I felt like that for a good while.”

“Will it go away?”

“Eventually, yes. Might take more or less time for you than it did for me.”

“Nonetheless, I want to spend that time with you. You once told me it’s disrespectful to ourselves to forbid our hearts to be happy.”

“What a good memory you have.” She smiled.

“Well, I want to allow myself to be happy.” He used his finger to put a lock of her hair back in place. “And I want to be happy with you.”

“Good. Because I want just the same.”

“Good. Let’s do it.”

“Alright then. Let’s go.” Said she.*

“Not too far.” Said he.* “I…”

“You don’t want to get hurt, I get it. What’s too far?” Said she.*

“Where you are.” Said he,* pulling her closer, his lips collapsing against hers.

_You’ve gotta try_   
_You’ve gotta hold her_   
_You’ve got to squeeze her_   
_You have to try_   
_You got to try_   
_And always please her_   
_You won’t regret it_   
_You won’t regret it_   
_Oh, try a little tenderness_

In the most passionate kiss they could have shared, he realized that he had jumped, the parachute had opened, he had landed safely, and it felt like he was going home.


	9. Feels like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Amy stay in and watch a movie, but can’t keep their hands off each other.

It took Tom every fiber in his being not to pick up Amy in his arms and carry her to his bed. All he wanted was to kiss every inch of her body, feel her writhe underneath him and make her scream his name until she was voiceless. But the reasons he didn’t were two: firstly, he was abou to leave for US and stay there for about two weeks. If he went to bed with Amy, he’d most likely wank his pecker raw so much he would masturbate to the memory and the craving for her hot wet cunt. Secondly, as much as it pained his demanding and needed cock, he didn’t want to jump into things. Maybe he’d take her on another one or two dates before he tried anything.

After two torturous and impossibly long weeks (during which Tom actually added Amy on Skype so they could at least see each other and chat a bit), he arrived in London on typical Monday, with grey skies and cool soft wind. When he stepped outside the plane, he could smell the fresh rain that had just stopped. As soon as Tom hopped on a cab home, he couldn’t wait anymore.

_I’m back. Want to see you._  He texted Amy.

After a couple of minutes his phone beeped.

_I want to see you too. I can’t meet during the day, though. I’m packed with patients. Can we go out at night?_

_We can go out tomorrow if u r too tired._

_God no. I miss you. Pick me up at 8?_

_Sure. How about a movie?_

_Can’t wait. xx Gotta go._

He texted back with a smile on his lips.

The rest of the day was quite plain. Luke was supposed to drop by, but he had a little personal emergency and asked Tom if they could catch up on his agenda another day. Tom was actually relieved to have some extra time before they talked. He hadn’t really mentioned his situation with Amy - for some strange reason he was feeling a little anxious about having this conversation.

It was seven thirty when Tom left his apartment, not wanting to be late. Halfway there, it started to rain.When he buzzed on the intercom, the rain got worse.

_"Tom?"_

"Hi. Yes, it’s me."

_"Can you come up for a second?"_

"Yeah, of course."

_"Alright. I’ll buzz you through."_

Bouncing up and down on the balls of his heels, he waited for the lift to come down.  _No matter how hot she looks, I should wait a bit… I mean, it’s the right thing to do, right?_ He checked himself on the lift mirror, not being able to help being a bit nervous.  _Plus I didn’t want her to be offended, I mean, what if she thought I’m the kind of guy who already wants to fuck the girl on the first date?_ He got out of the lift and headed towards her door.  _And tonight we’re just going out for a movie, no biggie. We’ll kiss – yeah, I definitely want to kiss her again. A lot. We’ll make out a bit in the dark of the theatre and I’ll drive her home._ He rang the doorbell.  _Maybe we could eat something, but no sex._ She opened the door.  _On second thought…_

He licked his lips before baring his teeth in a smile, looking from top to bottom to take in the vision she was. There she was, wearing a sheer navy top that let him see without effort her black lingerie, and jeans so tight Tom could swear they had been painted on her skin. Tom could tell her make-up and hair were done, but she was still barefoot and holding a crimson jacket in one hand.

“Hello, darling.” He stepped closer and snaked both hands around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Hi…” She smiled against his lips. “I missed you…”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

“You know, I was thinking…” She had to stand on her toes when he held her like that.

“Yes…” He couldn’t help himself, he started leaving kisses down her jawline.

“With this awful weather, we could order food and watch Netflix. What do you think?”

Safely sitting side by side in the theatre or cuddling with Amy on her couch? What a tough choice for a man that was trying to avoid sex.

“Sounds perfect.”

-

The time it took for the food to arrive they used to decide what movie they’d watch on Netflix, which ended up being some old classic that both of them had watched dozens of times. They ate their food before the first half of the movie was through and now, with all the boxes, bottles, napkins and whatnots tucked away inside the brown paperbags in a corner of by the couch, there they were, a soft blanket covering their legs and heads leaning against each other. To be honest, despite Tom liking the movie, he had no interest in it. All he could think of was how her naked foot was touching his. That, and how much he wanted to feel more of her skin. He had one arm around her shoulder, and the other across his legs. He felt her fingers searching for his and entangling one by one until she held his hand. He looked at her and smiled. In the darkness of her living room, only the light coming from TV flickering on her skin, she still managed to glow. Or maybe he… Well, there was no ‘maybe’ here. He was in love.

And horny. And squeezed her with the arm around her shoulder and brought her closer so he could kiss her. As soon as she let his tongue in, his hand left hers and circled around Amy to hold her in his arms. She wanted to kiss every bit of him, to feel him hot under her lips. Turning around and climbing on top of him, she straddled Tom and let her mouth run a wet trail down his neck as his hands trailed up her thighs. Amy heard him moan and loved the sound of it, so erotic and beautiful. She licked and sucked at his adam’s apple, making Tom gasp, his eyes rolling to the back of the head and his hands squeezing her perfect arse. His fingers find their way under her shirt and he feels her arch her back as if his touch gave her gooseflesh. Suddenly, she stopped kissing him and sat up on his thighs.

“Wait… are okay with this?” She said.

_Are you kidding me?_  He furrowed his brows, his voice low and hoarse.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He said.

“I don’t know, you said you wanted to take things slow, and I agree, but…” He didn’t say anything, only arched an eyebrow to keep her going. “I just thought you’d be asking yourself if we’re not going too fast, if we shouldn’t wait another couple dates or maybe a few weeks…”

There was a part of his brain that was curled up in a corner overthinking everything about this situation. The rest of it couldn’t stop picturing her naked.

“Right now, I got only one question…” His hands found their to the side of her breasts, his thumbs grazing at the fabric covering. “May I touch?” Said he.*

She smiled and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Hmm… Tell me how bad you want to touch me, Tom… Tell me… How much?” Said she.*

He gruned and turned his head to take her earlobe between his lips and suck it, while his hands pulled her closer to grind her hips against his erection.

“A lot.” Said he.*

There was something about the way the words unrolled out of his mouth that left her on the brink of moaning. Before she could react to it, though, he had rolled them both on the couch, laying her on her back as he hovered on top of her. He wanted to enjoy every moment of it, but at the same time he wanted to get to it quickly and feel her writhe against his body.

“Shit, wait.” He sat back on his heels, straddling her.

“What?”

“I forgot to…” He scratched the back of his neck feeling like a stupid teenager. “I wasn’t really planning on… I don’t have any condoms.”

“Oh.” Amy propped herself on her elbows. “Well, are you clean?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Am too.”

“Well, what about… you know…” He cocked his head.

“Oh, I’m always on the pill.”

“My smart little minx.” He winked and smiled, and lowered himself to kiss her.

Hooking his fingers on the hems of her top, he pulled it over her head and Amy shimmied out of it. Tom kissed her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts… He stopped for a moment, hands on her waist, and considered taking off the bra and licking her tits. No… there was something else he wanted to taste first.

He kept on kissing down her stomach, inch by inch until he reached the waistline of her jeans. Tom unbuttoned and unzipped them and pulled them down, helping her out of it. He loved that she wasn’t wearing anything fancy or special - just regular black knickers to go with her black bra. And it made her even sexier. Leaving soft kisses on her lower stomach, he slid her underwear off and looked up at her. Even in the half-darkness of the room, he could see how flushed she was. He wasn’t thinking about how long had it been since he had last done this, but even though she was right there and he had her quim just an inch from his face, he was still craving her. He smiled, licked his lips, and kissed her mound. Then her lips. Spreading them with his thumb, he kissed her clit. She gasped. He could feel her already so wet and so ready for him… Without taking his eyes off hers, his dragged the tip of his tongue from her entrance to her bud. Oh, how wonderful was her taste. Tom enveloped his lips around her clit and sucked. Slow; staring at her; enjoying it. Her chest heaving, her mouth hung open, her eyes half closed…

He hooked a hand around her thigh and the other began teasing at her entrance, making her breathing hitch everytime he touched her oh so gingerly. It was marvelous. They had barely started and he loved to watch her reactions. When he finally slid two fingers inside her, all the while sucking her wet swollen clit, she moaned so loud, such a delicious sound. He kept pumping inside her and suckling for dear life and she couldn’t help but surrender under his touch.

“Oh, Tom… Oh fuck! That feels so good!”

She was digging her nails on the couch and arching her back as he curled his fingers inside her and began to flick his tongue at her little bud.

“Oh fuck! Yes!”

He splayed a hand on her stomach to hold her still and increased the speed of his other hand, touching her sweet spot over and over.

“Oh God! Fuck I’m gonna- ooh!”

He felt her tensing under his touch and the next thing she was coming all over his hand and chin. He lapped at her as if it was the most delicious meal on the universe - and it was.

Tom looked at Amy and saw her panting, her forehead glowing lightly with sweat. She smiled down at him and he grinned back as she pulled him up to kiss him and taste herself. Her hand went down to his arse to give his cheeks a nice squeeze.

“We need to get you out of this clothes.” She said.

“No argument there.” He stood up and extended a hand. “Come on sweetheart, let’s move this to the bedroom.”

She took his hand and got on her feet, turning the TV off and leading him to her room. It wasn’t fancy or full of stuff, just a couple of dressers, a large bed and a door that could either be a closet or a bathroom. She didn’t even bother to turn the lights on, there was a large, tall window that served as most of the wall and was letting the lights of the city at night light the dimness of the room. Tom snaked a around her waist, hugging her from the back and kissing her shoulder.

“Has anyone ever told you how delicious you are?” He unclasped her bra and let her slip it off.

“You’d think they would. I’m not all half bad…” She chuckled.

“Half bad?” He turned her around in his arms and ran his hand up her waist. “Sweetheart, you’re positively sinful.”

He lowered his head and kissed her, his hands cupping her breasts, weighing them down and running his thumbs on her hard nipples. Amy could feel his hardness poking at her lower stomach, so she fumbled with the button and zipper to set him free. No underwear. She licked her lips and grabbed his cock, feeling it hot and smooth under her touch. Hot, smooth and  _big_. She stroked his girth up and down, making him gasp against her mouth. He pushed his pants down on the floor and stepped out of them, then pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall on the ground.

Amy got down her knees, eyes locked on his, hand holding his cock, and licked the tip of it to taste the salty precum already pooling, making Tom hiss between his teeth.

“God, you’re perfect…” He closed his eyes as she continued to stroke him and suck him, taking more of him into her mouth everytime she bobbed her head.

Her mouth was perfect, wet and hot and taking all she could until the head was hitting against her throat. She was moaning all around his cock, making him feel every vibration.

“Oh God, Amy…”

His mouth hung open and his fingers entangled in her hair, holding her head still as his hips started to roll and fuck her mouth. He felt her nails up the side of his thighs, going all the way to the back and digging into his arse. She looked up at him. Oh sweet heaven, the white-blue light coming from the window made her back side shine and the rest of her was half-hidden in the shadows. Tom felt her tongue swirling around his cock and her cheeks hollowing as he added another hand to grip her hair and increased his speed. He threw his head back, feeling his release coming closer.

“Amy…” He was panting already. “Amy, I’m gonna…”

Tom wasn’t quite sure if he should come in her mouth, but he felt her nails dig harder on his arse and her head moving faster, spurring him on. He looked down and saw her looking up at him with hunger and naughtiness, and then she winked at him. It was his undoing. Moaning her name out loud, he felt his balls tighten and spilled all of his hot load in her mouth. Amy drank it all, eager for every drop. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at him and bit her lip with a devilish smile curling her mouth.  _God, she’s…_  He had no words.

Tom helped her up and walked her to her bed, Amy walking backwards until her knees met the mattress. She moved up and Tom crawled towards her - he couldn’t stop looking at every inch of her, every delicious curve, every sweet bit of skin. He wanted to lick every inch of her until he could memorize her taste. He propped himself on his elbows and kissed her. She could feel his cock already hardening again as his hands squeezed every bit of her. He let one hand find its way to her quim and slid a finger between her folds, making him grunt against her mouth when he felt how wet she was. Tom ran his hand up and down, stroking her clit with his palm and sliding just the tip of his finger inside her. She pulled him closer and let her head fall back, and his lips found their way to her breasts. He took one nipple between his lips while he pinched the other, making her gasp. His fingers started pumping inside her, slow enough to tease, making her dig her nails on his flesh.

He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on his fingers, tasting her juices again. God, she was heavenly… Amy grabbed him by the neck and brought him down to kiss her roughly, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hand went down to his cock, grabbing and stroking him, bringing the tip to her cunt. She wanted him so bad. And she needed him even more.

“Tom, please… Fuck me…”

He licked his lips and looked at her. In this one second he only stared at Amy, he could see nothing but a perfect poem. He wanted to feel every bit of her around him the same way he felt every word of a sonnet. She was beautiful, sweet and delicious, and in that moment Tom wanted nothing more than to love her.

He slipped himself inside her, his eyes closing as he moaned with the feeling. She felt so hot and wet around his cock, he didn’t want to ever leave her. Amy held him so close he could almost feel her heartbeat. Tom rolled his hips as Amy curled her legs around his hips, driving him deeper. He could feel her so tight around him, he could hear her moaning and sayin his name, he could taste her mouth and skin, he could see her face contorting in the most beautiful sights, he could smell the scent of almonds he oh so loved. He grabbed her leg and pulled it over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck!” She bit her lip feeling him hit deep inside her.

She snaked her hands between them, pulling him by the neck and bringing him to clash her mouth against his. Her leg slipped back down and Tom circled his arms around her, propping himself on his elbows and holding her so very close. He could feel her hot breath on his neck, her moans louder as she screamed in his ear, her heartbeat racing against his chest, very much like his own heart seemed to be hammering inside him. Tom was grunting, they were both panting, it was harder to breathe as he dipped his nose on the crook of her neck…

“Jesus… sweet-  _fuck_ _!_  Oh God, Amy I’m gonna-”

“ _Oooh Tom!_ ”

He felt her clench around his cock as she came, her nails dragging down his back, and he couldn’t hold a minute longer.

“Fuck! Oh Amy!” He grunted against her neck as he spurted inside her.

He felt her pull his hair and she wouldn’t let go. They stood there for a moment, not moving a muscle, simply trying to catch their breaths. He had his arms around her, she had her arms and legs around him… He felt warm. And not just because they were so close and spent from fucking, no… There was something else. It felt… good. It felt real. It felt like home.

He closed his eyes for a moment and didn’t even noticed he was dozing off. Next thing he knew, he was on his side and Amy was poking him in the ribs.

“Tom?” She whispered.

“Hm.”  What was it? He wanted to sleep.

He suddenly realized he wasn’t in his own bed and his eyes popped open.

“It’s 2am… Shouldn’t you go home? I thought you had an interview early in the morning.”

“No, honey.” He pulled her closer and and kissed her forehead. “That’s on Wednesday… Could I…”

“What?” She leaned back a bit to look at him.

“Could I stay here tonight?” He bit his lip, feeling more nervous about this than he usually would.

She smiled at him, the sweet smiled he loved so much.

“Why not?” Said she.* “I’d love to actually sleep with you.”

“And I’d love to wake up by your side.”

She snuggled closer and he kissed her, and it wasn’t long before they both fell asleep in each other’s arms. Tom fell asleep feeling her soft skin, Amy fell asleep feeling his light scruff, and they both fell asleep feeling the other side of the bed warm and not empty.


	10. Waking up

When Tom and Sarah were still married, during the last few months of it, they both knew it was ridiculous to try and pretend everything was alright. Neither of them had to say a word, but Tom knew that Sarah no longer wished to share a bed with him, and he felt the same way, so he moved in to the guest room. On one night, as if scraping the bottom of an already empty plate, they tried going out for dinner and making love in their bed. Maybe it would light up a fire and be the beginning of a reawakening. It did no such thing. They didn’t even make it to the second part of the plan: they got home, changed and went to bed together, but neither of them could fake it so bad and moments later, as sleep eluded them, Sarah asked for a divorce. Finally.

So for almost a year now he had gotten used to sleeping alone - and not crave a companion to share the hotel beds with him. He was ok with the fact that the other side of the mattress was cold and empty all the time, but that never stopped him from torturing himself thinking about the end of his marriage. Until quite recently he would catch himself thinking if all of it had been his fault. His friends, his family and now even his fans, they had all told him not to think about that and be the positive person he had always been, but it still bothered him - it caught him unware on a Sunday afternoon or during a particularly long and boring flight. Had he caused it? Had Sarah? Could they have avoided it? If they had actually taken the time to go to a couple’s therapist, would they have found out that there still was some hope left? Countless times he heard the phrase  _“it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. This stuff happens and you can’t avoid it.”_  And then they moved from comforting to giving advice. All sorts of it. Some of them were actually offensive towards Sarah, calling her a cold-hearted bitch, which made him quite angry. Sarah was lovely. She was spirited and kind and very, very sweet. If he could he would have forced himself to love her again, while there was still time, because he would have given anything to go back to the days when they were together. Would have.

Now Sarah was the last thing on his mind. All his brain could acknowledge was how warm and soft Amy’s skin felt against his. It made him feel so comfortable, so relaxed and sheltered. Their legs were entangled, her back pressed against his chest, his arm around her, grazing at her breasts and his nose dipped on the crook of her neck. He was still half asleep, but he was awake enough to notice how the scent of almonds had faded - and he still wanted to lick her skin. He opened his eyes and looked at the angel in his arms. They both had their back turned to the large window that allowed the first rays of sun to lighten the room, and it made him think that there was nothing more beautiful than the sunshine making her olive skin glow with a golden warmth. Tom pulled her closer, squeezing her against his body, and heard her breathing change as she woke up.

“Good morning.” He muttered against her neck, kissing her there.

“‘morning…” She smiled and reached around to play with his hair.

“How long we’ve got until you need to go to work?” He wanted to spend every possible second with her.

She reached for a watch on the dresser and checked it.

“About an hour and a half.” She turned around to face him and giggled when he kissed her nose. “Do you want breakfast?”

“I’d love some. Should we go out?”

“I was actually thinking we could eat here…”

She wasn’t sure if she had a bunch of food stocked, she probably had to go out for groceries, but the idea of preparing breakfast with Tom sounded like a perfect way to end this quite extended date. He pulled her closer and clashed his lips against hers, feeling completely awake and full of passion. And so did his cock. He got himself on top, his hands running up her body to knead her breasts as he kept kissing her.

“Tom… Stop…” She giggled and tried pushing him away. “I’ve got morning breath.”

He hovered on top of her and put on a serious face, much like Clark Gable’s at the end of Gone With The Wind, except he added an eyebrow twist.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” He quoted, and they both laughed. “But if it bothers you, I could always put my mouth somewhere else…”

He winked at her and she couldn’t help but feel something stirring in her stomach and making her feel all giddy as he lowered himself and kissed her navel. Tom hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled her pussy closer to his mouth. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he saw Amy bite her lower lip just before he dragged a long wet lick all over her slit. She bit her lips and threw her head back, and he licked her again, spreading her legs wider so he could dip his tongue inside her.

“ _Oooh..._ ” He loved that sound, the first lazy moan from a girl’s mouth on a morning fuck.

He kept thrusting his tongue as far as he could inside her, his left hand going up to squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple. She grabbed the sheets and pulled them as she moaned louder and louder with every little thrust of tongue, every slight burn of his scruff, every squeeze of his hand… He reached with his thumb to press down on her clit, firmly massaging the little bud.

“ _Oh yeeess Tooom… Right theeerrree..._ ” The moans were dragging themselves out of her throat.

The hand on her breast went down to his cock. It had been pulsing for attention and he wanted to giver Amy a nice treat. He began wanking to full tilt, as he wanted to give her something right after she came and he could tell she was near the edge. He wouldn’t stop, he wanted to watch her come undone under his touch, he wanted to taste her cum on his tongue. He pinched her clit and saw her let go. She came hard and he drank her juices like a man thirsty after walking the desert. He sat back on his heels and kept stroking his cock, feeling his balls tighten and his stomach twitch. Amy pushed up on her elbows and watched him milk his cock until he spurted all over her stomach, both of them moaning at the beads of cum spread on her.

“Right…” Her own thoughts were scattered around. “Uh… oh, yeah, breakfast.”

He laughed and they both got up. Amy pulled some tissues out of a drawer and cleaned herself before wrapping her body with a pearly silk robe. Tom put his trousers on and they stepped into the kitchen, Amy going about opening cabinets and searching the fridge for food.

“What are you in the mood for, love?” She asked.

“Do you have  any beans?” He leaned on the counter.

“No…” She pulled some stuff from the fridge. “Actually I should do some grocery shopping today. I don't even have eggs... but I do have some tomatoes and sausages.  And I could make some toast.”

“Sounds perfect, darling.”

“Alright.” She smiled at him. “Why don't you put the kettle on?”

-

If there was one thing that Tom loved to do when dating a girl, that thing was pampering her in every way. He went home after they had breakfast and she went to her office, and even thought she had been feeling as if walking on clouds all day, she couldn’t possibly be expecting the beautiful flowers he sent her after lunch.  _“I saw them on a stand and they reminded me of you on our first date. Couldn’t help it… Hope you like it, sweetheart. Have a good day.”_ She was smiling like a goof, holding a bouquet of three dozen long-stem pink [roses](http://www.heavenlycreationflorist.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/36-Perfect-Pink-Roses-1811-90.jpg). Amy found a vase - she liked to brighten up the place with flowers sometimes - and put them in some water, and spent the rest of the day answering all sorts of comments, from “Wow, that’s a lot of flowers” and “They’re beautiful” to “Boy, did someone screw up real bad” and “How big of a discount is that patient trying to get?” Later that day, she called Tom to thank him for the flowers and they ended up talking until she had to go to bed.

On the next day, she got home and her doorman said a box had arrived for her and he thought leaving it at her doorstep or near the mail boxes wouldn’t be so smart. When he handed it to her, she couldn’t help but shake her head at the card.  _“I promise I’ll stop with the gifts as soon as I see you again, darling. I just wanted to make you feel as good as I feel when we’re together.”_ There she was again, smiling like a goof as she waited for the lift with a box of Signature Chocolate Truffles from [Godiva](http://demandware.edgesuite.net/sits_pod21/dw/image/v2/AAKG_PRD/on/demandware.static/Sites-Godiva-Site/Sites-godiva-master-catalog-us/default/v1410581011230/large/FALL2013/Product/Truffles36_78335_01.jpg?sw=475&sh=475).

As their schedule didn’t work in their benefit this week, Amy would only see Tom on Thursday, at the book club, so she knew Wednesday would come with another gift. As she got home, she wondered what could he possibly send her now. Diamonds would be too much this early on the relationship, she thought, and clothes somehow didn’t seem appropriate as well. But when her doorman called her to pick up another delivery for her, she knew Tom was no unexperienced boy when it came to showering a girl with presents. There it was, honey coloured fur with a red ribbon around the neck, twenty inches from head to toe, a big gorgeous soft and cuddly [teddy bear](http://media.sayitwithbears.co.uk/img/bears/5140big.jpg) with a big fat squidgy tummy.  _“Third one’s a charm, they say. He is golden, cute and soft like you. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”_ He always signed his name along with a couple of kisses, and she couldn’t help noticing he had sprayed some of his cologne on the bear. She didn’t want to sound like an adolescent girl, so she decided no to tell him that she fell asleep while watching TV, eating Godivas and hugging Harry, the bear.

-

Tom paced around his apartment, waiting for Luke to arrive. He had lines to learn, but he couldn’t focus. Luke had said that Tuesday would be complicated because he had the most of the day scheduled with Emma, so he’d stop by on Wednesday afternoon so they could go over Tom’s agenda. He wasn’t going to hide Amy from him, there was no point, but he was so nervous about this and for so many reasons - that didn’t really have anything to do with Luke, he was just bloody nervous.  _I mean, what if…_

There was a knock on the door. He went to open it and in came Luke, carrying a pile of papers that usually consisted of scripts or material for Tom to do some extra research on a role. Most of the time that was something Tom worked on along with the director, but sometimes he asked Luke to help him find a book or a manuscript or a article, just to speed things along.

“Hey, how you doing, man?” Luke walked in and placed his things on the coffee table. “You know, we got a lot to over. I got like five different magazines that want you for spreads, photoshoots, interviews and with your new movie coming along you’re gonna be out on location half the time and your schedule is gonna be real tight but I was thinking some stuff on the way over here and I think I’m gonna buy a puppy and name it Rudolph and move to Tahiti and become a drag queen named Sheila Super Sugar. Tom, you’re not even listening to me!

“Huh?” He raised his head. He had spent the last few seconds poking the floor with his shoe. “Oh, sure, whatever you say is great, Luke.”

“Really?” He faked a curious expression and placed his hands on his hips. “So you think Rudolph is actually a good name for a puppy?”

“What?” Tom creased his forehead.

Luke rolled his eyes.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“I, uh… there’s something I want to tell you.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“Okay… Should I be worried?” Luke against the back of the couch and crossed his arms.

“Uh, no. Not at all, I think.” Tom scratched his beard and started to pace around the room. “I’m dating this girl, that’s all.”

“Oh. That’s great!”

Ever since the divorce Luke had been very supportive, trying to help Tom get back on his feet and not give up on life. For the past two months or so he had noticed how his friend and employer would be more eager than usual to get to the bookclub and quite often was late when he went back to pick him up. More than just once or twice Luke had spotted Tom talking with this beautiful girl with olive skin and brown hair, the same they had to work into the story when Tom came out about the divorce.

“Well, who is it?” Luke said.

“Remember Amy? The therapist from my bookclub?”

“I fucking knew it.” Luke shook his head and Tom shrugged. “How long has it been going on?”

“A month or so, more or less… It actually sort of started four weeks ago, but we went out on our first date just before I went to United States three weeks ago, so I’m gonna go with a month, yeah.”

“I feel like I should give you a hug, man.” Luke smiled widely and crossed the distance to Tom, throwing his arms around him, but Tom didn’t really respond to it. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, but I’m happy you’re moving on.”

“Well…”

“What’s with the ‘well’?” Luke leaned back to stare at him. “What’s wrong?”

Tom stepped out of the hug and walked across the room.

“It’s just that… I’m nervous, you know… About this whole thing… ” He sat down on the couch, elbow on knee and chin on his knuckles. “After all that I’ve been through, I’m just nervous, I’m afraid of what might happen.”

“Alright, that’s understandable. But don’t you like her?” Luke walked around the couch and sat on the coffee table, facing Tom.

“Of course I do! But it’s… I just…” He knew the feeling, but he was still searching for the words. “It’s just that the last time I felt like this… last time I fell in love it didn’t end so well.”

“Oh, I can’t believe this.” Luke slapped his knees and got up, rolling his eyes and swinging his hands around as he spoke. “You’ve been in this relationship for what?, a month?, and already… You know, some people they get carried away with their feelings and start getting ahead of themselves, but you just raised the goddamn bar! You’re thinking beyond marriage, Tom! You’re thinking  _divorce!_

“I’m not thinking divorce!” Tom didn’t get up, but did feel rather attacked.

“Yes, you are!” Luke was brandishing a finger at him, the other hand on his hip.

“Luke, come on…” He let himself fall back on the couch and avoided looking at his friend.

“Tom, listen to me. Look at me.” He waited until Tom rolled his eyes toward him to continue. “I am not in this relationship, so I can’t tell you if you’re moving too fast or too slow or doing things too early or not, but answer me this: does she make you feel good?”

“Yes.” Tom answered without a second thought. There was no doubt. “She does. A lot.”

“Does she like you back?” Luke took a step forward, hands on his hips.

“I believe so, yeah.” All Tom could do was shrug. Deep down, he knew she liked him, he could feel it when he was with her, but right now his own head was to scrambled to think straight.

“Do you want this to end?”

“God, no!” That he knew for sure. “I…”

“Then stop thinking this relationship has an expiration date and enjoy what you have right now or else you’ll end up spending more time worrying about what  _could_  happen that actually enjoying what  _is_  happening. And by the way, why am I actually having to tell you this, Tom?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you Mr. Positivity?" He stepped closer. "Aren’t you all about enjoying the good things in life?”

“Luke…” He dragged a hand down his face.

“I asked you not to give up, Tom.”

“I didn’t." He propped his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. "I won’t. I’m just… scared.”

“That’s good.” Luke said.

“Good?" Tom looked up. "How is being scared something good?”

“Dear God, man, if you start losing your memory you’re gonna need to find yourself another job…” Tom looked at him with a puzzled look and Luke sat back on the coffee table before he went on. “You know how I always look over your interviews and videos from time to time, to see if everything went right and we don’t need to do any damage control?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, remember Nerd HQ, when you quoted A Midsmummer’s Night Dream?  _‘Take pains, be perfect’_ _..._  You said we should not be affraid of caring.”

“Luke…” Tom bit his lip and looked to the side.

“And you’ll never win unless you also stand to lose.”

Tom closed his eyes and let his head fall. He didn't say anything, he didn't know quite what to say. Luke knew he should give him a moment, so for a while he didn't say anything. Then after some silence, he went on with a much softer tone.

“When are you gonna see her again?”

“Tomorrow.” Tom said without looking up.

“Alright. Now answer me this, Tom. Do you want to be with her?”

Tom nodded.

“Do you want to make this work?" Luke asked again.

“Yes.”

“Are you scared?” Luke said.

“To death.” He breathed

“Good. Now one more thing.” Luke creased his brow and bit his lip before shaking his finger at Tom. “Didn’t you once say she was divorced as well?”

“Yeah.”

“Just for the sake of the conversation, do you know the reason of the divorce?” Luke knew that it was not only of his business but very intrusive of him to ask, but he had a point he wanted to make.

“Her husband cheated on her.” Tom trusted Luke, he knew he’d never tell anyone about this, specially let Amy know that he knew. To some people this was quite a humiliation.

“This means she’s also traumatized. Your marriage came to an end, hers was ripped apart. Neither is worse than the other, but these sort of traumas change people and make them edgy. You fear loss and heartbreak and she probably has trust issues. She might be just as scared as you are, but I bet she also wants this thing between you two to work. And I bet she’ll try just as hard as I know you will. And if she’s just as selfless as I know you are, she won’t do it just to avoid her own pain and suffering, but because she loves you and doesn’t want to see you cry.”

Tom had a little coy smirk on his lips.

“When did you get all insightful and romantic all of the sudden?” He said.

“I guess all these years working for you finally paid off.” Luke tapped Tom on the shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about the level of privacy this relationship is gonna get…”


	11. I want candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Amy can’t keep it in their pants even when they’re in public.

_“Tom?” He turned back and looked at her. “If you really want my advice, I’d tell you to try and learn a lesson from whatever it is that’s been putting you down. Something positive.”_

-

The lesson, he had learned. He had realized how foolish he had been by shutting himself inside a shell during the divorce and right after it. For a moment he had teetered on the border of a cliff, and hitting rock bottom could have meant being clinically depressed. When he met Amy, when he felt his heart falling for her, he thought of not saying anything - perhaps it was too early. But he had a lesson to learn, and he forced himself to do so. It was foolish to repeat the same mistake and avoid his feelings. So he was now open-hearted to loving her, wherever it may lead. A new disappointment? He hoped not, but he was willing to find out. To be honest, he felt quite good about this. Amy was very comprehensive and sweet, she would know how to deal with the fresh wound in his heart.

-

Tom strolled down the street on his way to the bookstore while sucking on a cherry lollipop, his hands shoved down his jacket pockets. His Ray-Ban hanging on the bridge of his nose, he was wearing his black jeans, his blue button up shirt, his black jacket and boots. He rolled the candy ball with his tongue, lost in his thoughts of what was expecting him at the store - or better yet, who. Gosh, she was incredible… Tom couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive. To be honest, he actually felt a little silly too. He was sure the sky was gloomy as usual, gray and cloudy as it should be at this time of year in London, but somehow the day looked brighter. He wouldn’t go as far as to say the birds were chirping and the flowers were blossoming, but there was something different in the fresh breeze cooled his cheeks, he could tell.

As he turned around the corner, he saw her across the street standing in front of the store, two papercups of some hot steaming drink in her hands and her [caramel](http://40.media.tumblr.com/ae9fbfe1e02aaf8ae2982d0b29ebdd5e/tumblr_nczx7jRn0Z1qjscwto1_500.jpg) coat hanging from her shoulders. He stopped for a moment, a broad smile spread across his face. Oh boy, wasn’t he lucky? There he was, looking at this beautiful woman he was in love with, and he didn’t feel the anguish that he used to feel towards the end of his marriage. What he felt for Amy, however fresh and young that feeling was, it was the opposite of the tightness in his chest that not-loving Sarah had brought to him. It was like carrying a burden for so long that you get accostumed to it and forget of its weight on your shoulders. And then Amanda came along, slithered into his life, his mind and specially his heart and the weight had been lifted - he actually felt lighter.

With a big smile on his lips he crossed the street, feeling the cool wind against his cheeks. She had her back turned to him as she waited on the sidewalk, so he sneaked up behind her until he could whisper in her ear.

“Hello.”

“Ah!” She jumped, almost spilling coffee before turning around to see him. “Oh. You big… dork!”

“Ehehehe…” He threw his head back laughing, then threw his lollipop in rubbish bin nearby. “I’m affraid that’s true darling.”

He moved closer, his hands circling her waist as leaned in for a kiss. “I’m a big dork and you’re a beautiful goddess.”

“Tom, that’s the cheesiest of lines.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Yeah, but it made you blush.” He kissed her again, smelling the almond scent emanating from her skin.

“Stop, you goof…” She stepped back. “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s about to start.”

She handed him his cup of coffee and they both went in the library to join the others for the book club.

-

Tom picked a fudge truffle-pecan tartlet and stuffed it in his mouth, revelling on the rich chocolate taste. Christina had brought a variety of tartlets from the deli near her house - she was considerate enough to always bring some lactose free ones for Jim - and everyone now was gathering around the snack tables for some sweets and tea. There were peach-nectarine tartlets, double citrus ones and tipsy spiced fruit pieces of heaven, which apparently were Jack’s favourite ones, since he was asking for the deli’s number to order some of the bourbon soaked fruity dessert. Tom looked around and noticed Amy had sneaked to the back of the store and had her head down while reading the back of a book.

“Tom?” Steve called him.

“Yeah?” He licked the chocolate off his fingers and turned to the old man.

“Can I ask you something personal?” He said while sipping on his steaming tea.

“Sure.” Tom poured himself some more and peaked at Amy from the corner of his eyes.

“I noticed you and Amy are quite close to each other, specially lately. Is… something going on between you two?”

“Oh. We’re dating. Yeah, we’ve been together for a couple of weeks now, a bit more than that actually.”

“That’s wonderful!” A sincere smile bared his teeth. “Amy is a great girl, she’ll help you, uh…”

“It’s okay, you can say. I came out about the divorce a while ago, it’s okay to talk about it. I don’t feel that bad anymore.”

“It’s good to have someone, isn’t it?” Tom simply answered with a smile and a nod. “I don’t know what I would do without Jack. We’ve been together for almost forty years! I can’t imagine myself without him.”

“Forty years? Wow.” Tom raised his eyebrows.

“Of course, we used to be more discrete about it. People weren’t so tolerant back then… Some still aren’t, but at my age I learned not to give a damn. He makes me happy when I’m sad and I make him breakfast and pick a decent shirt for him to wear every morning.” Tom laughed, thinking how cute that was. “He’d be lost without me. So would I, if I ever lost him. He’s my little bundle of joy, that old wrinkly fool. Makes me laugh all day.”

“It’s great that you found someone like that.”

“I hope you find your special someone too.” Steve said, placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

_Perhaps I already have…_

-

So far Tom hadn’t really been the most public person with his relationships. Sure, he hadn’t really hid anyone of them with complete secrecy, but he preferred not to expose it so much or people could get hurt. Also, his private life wasn’t really no one’ business - that’s why it’s called  _private_. As for his relationship with Amy, they weren’t really planning on hiding anything from the guys at the bookclub, but they wanted everyone to understand that since Tom was a famous person, people could start bothering them for inside details. Over tea and tartlets, Tom spoke while the others listened and nodded, agreeing to be discrete. They all liked Tom and Amy and were willing to help keep away the prying eyes of the press, but while everyone smiled and wished him luck in the relationship, Tom could only think of how much he wanted that conversation to end so he could go to Amy, who apparently had found a very interesting book at the back of the store.

He walked to her and leaned his side against the shelf, just a few steps from her, arms crossed. Amy noticed him there, but didn’t look away from the book. She looked so beautiful, wearing a amber crossover top and a tight striped brown skirt, her legs covered in stocking and nice brown boots making her legs look a mile high. To Tom’ delight, she had left her coat on a chair with her purse, so he could take in her delicious curves as he licked his lips and eyefucked her from head to toe.

"What are you doing, Tom?" She said with a smile on her lips, pretending to focus on the book in her hands.

"I’m looking at you." Tom shrugged.

"And how do  I look?"  

He unfolded his arms and, after looking to the sides to check if someone was watching, he strutted towards Amy, eyes locked on her like a predator. She licked her lips at the sight of him and felt every hair on her skin stand up when he circled his arms around her waist. His scent was fresh and musky and she felt completely unable to look away from his piercing blue gaze. The voice that left his lips was a low, hoarse whisper.

"Tiptop." Said he,* before finding her lips in a long sweet kiss.

Her hands ran from his chest to his arms, grabbing firmly onto the muscles underneath the blue shirt. Shamelessly, Tom’s hands slid down to fully squeeze her plump cheeks. Amy gasped and broke the kiss.

"Sorry."

He couldn’t help apologizing, perhaps she thought this was too brash in public. Betraying his conscience, Tom’s hardening erection poked on her lower stomach.

“Please tell me you don’t have anymore patients today…” He slid his hands back to her waist.

He started leaving butterfly kisses down her jaw. She felt him nibble at her earlobe and wish she could say she was free.

“Actually, I do have a couple more today…”

“Ugh…” He grabbed harder and pulled her closer, dipping his face in her neck. “I just want you all for me.”

“But I still have half an hour.” She checked her watch.

“Here’s an idea-” All of the sudden, he stood up straight. “You live nearby. Why don’t we run to your apartment for a quickie?”

He winked at her and wiggled his hips, pressing his erection against her crotch. Amy looked over his shoulder and saw the “staff only” door wasn’t properly closed.

“Or we could do it right here.” She raised her eyebrows.

Quickly, she slipped past him, grabbed his hand and dragged him across the back of the store. Behind that door wasn’t really a room, but a small corridor with doors leading to staff restrooms, common rooms, storage rooms… Before Tom could have said a word, Amy had pushed him inside a broom closet, locking the door behind them. Tom’s only reaction was to bare his teeth in a laugh while searching for the light switch, but he couldn’t find and was too much occupied with other things to keep trying. She pushed him against the shelves filled with cleaning products and started pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“So I take it you liked the teddy bear?” He said with a smile on his lips, his cock demanding her to go faster.

“And the flowers, and the chocolate… You’re spoiling me.” She was impatient, unbuttoning his shirt.

Tom pulled the sides of her crossover top to expose her bra clad breasts. They looked like caramel covered in chocolate, as she wore a brown lace bra that allowed Tom to see her nipples poking through the fabric, making his mouth water. He noticed her bra opened at the front and unhooked it, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it and drooling all over her skin. Amy purred at the feeling of his tongue swirling around her nipple, as she rushed to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, stuff her hand down his jeans and envelope her fingers around his cock. No underwear, oh how she loved that. She also loved how he felt warm and hard as she stroked him, and how his eyes fluttered closed and his jaw dropped open when he moaned.

“Shh, Thomas.” She whispered. “You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and a wicked smile on his lips. Tom grabbed her by the hips and pushed her against the narrow wall by his side, pressing his body on hers.

“Alright, I’ll be quiet. Let’s see if you can do the same.”

Tom slid his hands down her covered thighs to hook his fingers at the hem of her skirt and hike it up. He licked and bit his lips when he realized she was wearing thigh high stockings. When he reached her hips, he noticed her bare skin.

“No knickers…” He squinted his eyes and tilted his head as he realized. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Amy curled the side of her lips and wiggled her shoulder with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“What if I did?”

He growled and sunk his fingers in the plump meat of her ass.

“You naughty girl…” He hooked his hands under her bum and pulled her up.

She had to cross her legs around his waist and hold on to his shoulders for support, and Tom wiggled his hips to make the weight of his belt drop his pants.

“You think you’re in control?” He growled, pulling her lower lip between his teeth and placing the head of his cock against her slick entrance. “God, I wish we had time. I want to lick your pussy so bad…”

“Later, darling. Right now I need you to-  _oh!_ ” Amy squealed when Tom thrusted his cock inside her in one swift motion. “… fuck me… Fuck me, Tom. Fuck me hard.”

With no time to waste and her pussy so wet it dripped down his balls, Tom began pistoning his hips while he held her up against the wall. He could feel how deep he was hitting as he licked and sucked at her olive skin.

“Don’t stop!” Said she,* gasping and sinking her nails on his shoulder.

She bit her lips to avoid making noises, while Tom gritted his teeth and hissed as he felt hers walls so hot around him. Amy slipped a hand between them to try and reach for her clit, but he used his arm to block her.

“Oh no…” Said he,* looking at her from under his lashes. “I”m in charge, darling. You’ll come when I want you to.”

“Fuck… for goodness -  _oh!_ \- goodness sake, Tom! Go slow…” Said she,* as she was already feeling it coil in her center, bolts of pleasure pleasure building up to her iminent release.

“You know, it’s a good thing… we’re in a book store…  _Ah!_ ” He couldn’t finish a sentence without grunting or panting, his forehead starting to break a sweat. “I’ll buy you a… a dictionary and you can look up the meaning of the word quickie.  _Oh fuck!_ ”

“I wish I didn’t… didn’t have to work after this.  _Oh God yes!_ ” She breathed, trying not to be loud and get them both caught.

“You and me both, love.” Tom sunk his fingers in her ass, holding her up and ramming his cock inside her. “Oh God… yes!  _Yes!_ ”

His hot cum shot up her cunt, but he didn’t stop. He kept drilling her pussy because he knew she was close. Amy threw her head back and shut her eyes, biting hard on her own lip to hold back a cry of pleasure as her whole body exploded with her release. She came hard all around his cock and Tom could feel it dripping down his balls, which made him let out a strangled moan.

“Oh God, I want more…” Amy said as Tom eased her on the floor, her head still resting against the wall and her eyes shut.

“So do I, dear…” He said and then kissed her. “But let’s get out of here before someone notices we’re in here.”

Tom pulled up his pants and buttoned his shirt, and Amy lowered her skirt, hooked her bra and redid the knot on her crossover top, readjusting the fabric to cover her breasts.

“I gotta say, this did nothing for me.” Tom said, wiping the sweat off his face and neck.

Before she could answer, he had pressed her against the wall again and his lips were half an inch from hers.

“Now instead of being sated…” He ran one hand down her hip and then up her skirt to swipe two fingers against her wet pussy, coating his fingers in her juices. “… I just want to have another go and one that doesn’t last five minutes.”

Tom gazed straight into her eyes while he brought his hand up and sucked on his fingers.

“Hmm…” He closed his eyes for a second, tasting her, then looked deep into her brown orbs again. “Heavenly.”

-

They managed to sneak out without anyone spotting them, and Amy rushed to her office to tend to her patients, but midway through the first one her phone buzzed on her desk. As soon as the girl left, she checked it.

_“My place. 8 o’clock. Greek food for dinner and each other for dessert.”_

Right below followed a picture of his crotch, his long fingers grasping at his engorged cock through the sweatpants. Amy took a minute to recompose herself before the next patient and answer his text. Yes, they did have some unfinished business to attend to.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfiction based on the poem “May I Feel Said He”, by E. E. Cummings.  
> The poem’s stanzas and verses might not show up in the right order.  
> They might not show up at all in some chapters, there’s always that chance.  
> And yes, there will be smut in future chapters.
> 
> Note: solicitor (BritEn) = lawyer (AmEn)


End file.
